Paranoia or Reality
by F4llon
Summary: Sequel to Lines Crossed, Hunted and Poisk—the fourth in the series. Based three years on from Poisk, Callen and Nell find themselves in danger when their neighbours are attacked. A current case is linked to the case of their neighbours, that brings Detective Deeks back into the fold of the NCIS OSP team, while Hetty does her own digging from retirement.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This was written after the finale of Season 9 and before the start of Season 10. I've added in some detail from the show to make it more current since we've lost and gained characters, but the rest of the events are AU to continue my story from Lines Crossed, Hunted and Poisk._

 **Chapter 1**

Fear for his children's safety held root for Stephen—it exceeded the usual concerns that most parents had. And it was no surprise after all he'd been through. His family was his life, his everything.

"Mom! Dad!" Alice cried out from her bed.

Stephen and Thea rushed into the bedroom, expecting the worst.

"What is it, Sweetheart?" Thea sat on the edge of the bed, while Stephen turned on the lamp and crouched low to his daughter's height in her bed.

"I saw someone in my room." Her hazel eyes were wide with fear.

Thea pulled her in for a hug. "There's no one in here, Sweetheart. Look around your bedroom."

Alice wrapped herself into a tight ball and shook her head. "Not looking under the bed. You look."

At seven years of age, she was experiencing nightmares five nights in a row. It was the same thing every night. Someone was in her bedroom. A man standing in the corner of her bedroom, staring at her. Her heart raced each time, and it scared her.

Stephen looked under the bed. "Nothing."

He walked over to her closet and showed Alice there was no one in there either.

"I saw him. He had a bit of a beard with dark blue eyes and longer hair to his shoulders. He was wearing a long grey coat."

"It's summertime, no one is wearing a coat this time of year." Thea tried to reason. But no matter what Stephen and Thea tried to soothe her, it ended in the same way.

"Can I sleep with you?" It shattered Stephen's heart every time he saw his daughter frightened.

"How about I lie on the floor for a while until you fall back to sleep?" He was accustomed to sleeping on the floor from the years when he had no furniture.

Alice nodded. She shuffled back under the covers while Thea kissed her gently on the temple.

"Sleep tight, Alice. Love you."

"Love you too, Mom." Her cherub lips pressed together to kiss her mom back.

Thea kissed her husband and she wandered back along the hallway to check on Tristan and Hudson, before falling back to sleep. She didn't know why the nightmares had started for their daughter, and she wondered if she needed to take Alice to see a therapist to help her talk her worries over. She would discuss the matter with Stephen later when he returned to bed. Tristan and Hudson slept soundly in their bedroom, and she left them quietly. Pulling the covers over her, Thea rested her head onto the pillow and drifted off into a deep sleep.

The sound of glass smashing woke Stephen up with a start. He looked over to Alice who had drifted off to sleep, holding her giraffe close to her chest. He silently crept out of her bedroom and listened out for any further sounds. He furrowed his brow. He couldn't hear anything other than the humming of his blood pounding inside his head. Maybe he was imagining it. He checked the windows of the house near the front door and then to the back, and was satisfied all was safe. He walked back to Alice's bedroom and checked on her before heading for bed. Satisfied she was still where he left her, he checked on the boys and entered the master bedroom.

Climbing into bed, he snuggled up to his wife and drifted off to sleep for the rest of the night. He must have imagined the sound, he mused. There hadn't been any evidence of broken glass anywhere in their house. All windows were secure, and he went through the checklist one more time before he was pulled under into unconsciousness.

* * *

The sun peeked through the dark grey curtains, causing Stephen to squint as he climbed out of bed. There was nothing more effective of a way to wake up than for the sun to stream through and stop the production of melatonin. He ruffled his hand through his dark hair and entered the bathroom. He frowned when he looked outside the bathroom window at the police lights flashing next door.

"What's wrong?" Thea stood in the doorway watching him.

"Not sure." He turned and she saw the worry in his eyes. "There are police vehicles parked out front of next door."

Thea moved to take a look. "Wonder what's going on at this hour?"

"I don't know." Stephen thought for a moment. "I heard glass shattering at two this morning. I checked every window in our house, and thought I'd imagined it."

"No word to the kids, we can't have them worrying." Thea pressed her lips together, worrying. "You don't think it's anything major?"

Stephen's cell buzzed. He saw it was his best friend calling. "Sam. You're early."

"I've been for a five mile run already. What's your excuse?"

A hint of a smile graced Stephen's lips. "Child watch. Alice had another nightmare last night, I ended up on the carpet of her bedroom again."

"That's five nights in a row. What's started this up?"

"I don't know. But what I do know is that we have police out front of next door, and I heard glass shattering around two."

"Call Eric, I'm sure he'll be able to find out what's going on if you're worried."

"Yeah, you're right. Thanks. What's up? You called me."

"We have a case. I'll meet you out front in fifteen."

"You don't give me much time, do you?"

"How long does it take to make you look pretty?" Sam revved his engine and pulled out of the marina carpark.

"One minute. It's the goodbyes that take the longest." Stephen quickly pulled his denim jeans over his hips and zipped up the fly. He shoved a blue t-shirt over his head and quickly washed his face and brushed his teeth.

Sam chuckled slightly, he loved the family side to his partner. "See you soon."

He looked at his boat of almost a year, and smiled a sad smile. It wasn't the same as either of their last homes, both of which had been beautiful, but the boat deemed safer after what happened to their second last home, and to his wife, Michelle, at their last home. Anger seeped through the crevasses when he thought about what those men did to her—it broke his heart to know he couldn't save her in time. He pushed the memory back and focused on the day ahead of him.

* * *

"Daddy's got to go early today." Thea told their children.

Alice, the eldest, jumped up into her dad's arms and held on tight. "Take me with you."

"You know I would love to, but I have to concentrate on my work." Stephen pried her off him and settled her back onto the wooden floor.

"Hi five, Trist." He held his hand out and slapped it with his son's.

"Bye, Dad." Tristan was in Kindergarten and loved going to school like Alice.

"Hey, Huddy. Going to be good for Mommy today?" He lifted his youngest at age two and a half into his arms.

"Huddy good boy."

"That's my boy." Stephen hugged and kissed him before placing him into Thea's arms. He kissed her for longer on the lips. "Love you."

"Love you too. Stay safe." She opened the door for her husband and was in shock to see a detective about to ring their bell.

"Hi." Stephen stepped forward, closing the door behind him. He spotted Sam pull up at the curb. "What can I do for you, Detective?"

"We're asking all the neighbours if they heard anything strange during the night."

Stephen's eyes darted to his neighbours and spied the crime scene tape. "Is it safe for my family to stay here?"

"We don't know why your neighbours were targeted. Did you hear anything?"

"I remember glass shattering around 2am. I got up and checked all of our windows, but I never heard a sound after that." He narrowed his eyes at his neighbour's place. "What happened? Are Jason and Audrey okay?"

"You didn't notice anything going on next door?"

Stephen shook his head. "No. I would have dialled 911 had I known something was going on."

The detective dotted down his statement. "May I have your name, Sir?"

"Stephen Campbell."

"Thank you. We'll be in touch if we need anymore details from you."

"Like I said, I only heard the glass around 2am. It was silent before and afterwards."

"Thank you, Mr Campbell." The detective turned and spotted the black challenger and walked towards it. Sam stepped out, wondering what was going on.

"This looks serious," Sam stated to his partner. "What happened?"

"Don't know. The detective isn't answering my questions, only asking his own."

"You know this man?" The detective asked Stephen of Sam.

"Of course I do. He's my ride to work." Stephen slipped into the passenger seat and buckled in.

Sam slid in next to him. 'You sure you want to leave Thea and the kids next door to a crime scene?"

"I was thinking the same thing. I don't know Jason and Audrey that well, we spend more time with the neighbours with kids. But the detective isn't revealing anything about it being unsafe for the neighbours. He huffed out a breath. "What if they were targeted by mistake and it was me they were after?"

"Call Hetty, she'll know what to do."

"I miss her at work, you know."

"I know you do. It's not the same with Mosley at the helm," Sam admitted. "But you know Hetty and her contacts. She'll love having Nell and the kids over."

"Yeah, I know. It's hard living this double life as the Campbells and being Grisha Callen at work. It would be nice to be me all the time, but after what happened three years ago, it's too risky to chance that we'll be safe living as the Callen family."

"We got to do what we have to," Sam added. He knew that risk from his own experience as a husband and a father.

Callen noted the sadness in his partner's eyes. "You okay?"

"You know me. I'm a survivor." Sam stated matter of factly without emotion.

"I feel like we've swapped places. You alone, me with the family. It's odd!" Callen declared.

"Make the most of each and every day. At least Aiden was able to return to San Diego and work closer to home than he was in Europe. It's mattered to Kamran to have her big brother closer too."

"And for you." Callen added. He squeezed his partner's shoulders. "I'm here for you, bro."

"Thanks, G." Sam focused on his driving, turning corners and re-routing them to ensure they weren't being tailed while Callen called their old boss for advice on what to do with Nell and the kids, while there were police everywhere next door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

During the five years he'd been in hiding with Nell, Callen had missed the people who worked inside this old water treatment building. The so called, disused building was rough on the outside, but inside was a wonderful haven, somewhere he and his team could train, relax, or focus on a case, without the threat of being fired upon. That was until three years ago. Now, thankful that all the Russians who'd found and broken into this place were buried six feet under, he could relax again. It had taken his team time to find each and every last one of them, but they had. And that's what had mattered. There wasn't anyone left to find them in here, keeping it safe as their secret lair.

"What's taken you two so long?"

Shay Mosley stood still in her tan high heeled shoes with her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes narrowed at the senior partners. Her pencil thin beige skirt skimmed her curves, making Callen wonder if she had to run, would she be able to move quickly. Her choice of the red blouse would make her the perfect target, he mused.

"We have a case."

"Go easy on G. There's been a situation next door, and he's been trying to sort out what to do with his family." Sam squeezed his partner's shoulder for support.

"What kind of situation?" Her brows arched high, but the worry for Nell and their children was evident in her deep brown eyes. Her chin lifted ever so slightly, showing her weakness for children. Her own son was going through counselling after his ordeal being away from her for so long. The men in front of her, and the rest of their team, had almost lost their lives in saving him.

"Not sure. But the place is full of LAPD," Callen added. His eyes darted upstairs, knowing that's where they should be right now with the rest of their team.

"I'll ask Detective Deeks to look into it for us." Mosley told them with an air of authority. "Nell and your children are welcome at the boat shed until the situation is sorted."

"Thanks, but there's no need. They're already on their way to a safe place." Callen followed his partner up the familiar tiled staircase and into Ops.

Shay's eyes followed the two men as they vanished from sight. Her eyes hard like steel as she decided there and then to make the call. She knew the subject of the detective was a sore point with her after his insubordination a while back. She gritted her teeth as she made the call.

"Mosley." Deeks tensed as he saw the id of his former boss on the screen. "What can I do for you?" He was short with her, but it wasn't surprising with their history.

"I need a favour on behalf of the Campbell family." Her use of the Callen's cover name had him quickly open up his computer for details. He typed in their address and stopped when he discovered an incident during the night occurred next door.

"Does this have anything to do with the situation with their neighbours?"

"Yes, it does. What can you tell me?"

Marty Deeks ran his hand through his long blond hair as he studied the report. An unknown number of people broke into the residence, tied up the wife, and shot the husband point blank. The house was trashed, but it was fortunate the wife was still alive. She'd been badly beaten, probably from their interrogation of looking for something. But what? It didn't sit too well with him that it was next door to the Callens though. What if it had been mistaken identity and they'd meant to go into their home instead? And most importantly, who were the intruders, and what were they looking for?

"We're still trying to ascertain the events from during the night. All I can tell you is that the occupants were tied up, the wife bashed, and the husband shot in the head. The house was trashed from looking for something." Deeks licked his lips from nerves. "How well do they know their neighbours?"

"Not sure. We have a case and Callen's busy on it. He's mentioned his concern for his family, and mentioned they were on their way to a safe place."

"Good. I don't like the proximity to their home."

"Neither do I," Mosley agreed. "Search deep, Deeks."

"I will." He disconnected the call and dialled another number. He waited for them to pick up.

"Hey, Thea. How are you and the kids going?"

"Hey, Marty." Thea's eyes brightened at hearing her friend's voice. "Your timing is impeccable as always."

"Mosley called, told me about your neighbours, and I've just read the report. Are you safe?" The concern for them etched in the lines of his brow.

"We are. Thanks." Thea listened to the excitement from her children when they discovered they were arriving at grandma's house, even though Alice and Tristan were missing school.

"I can hear them. You at grandma's?" He could pick that much up over the phone.

"Yes, we are."

"Good. Stay there until I know more."

"What can you tell me?" She kept her own worry about the reason why the police were out front of their neighbour's home and throughout the property. She'd seen too many cases to know how serious it was.

"How well do you know your neighbours?"

"Not very much. Jason and Audrey don't have any children, they're usually away a lot with work, and they don't mix with the rest of the neighbourhood due to the rest of us having families."

"Do you know what they do for a living by any chance?"

"Marty, what happened next door?" Her patience was running thin, and she had a nervous energy running through her.

"All I can tell you is there was an unknown number of people who broke into their home, tied your neighbours up, and ransacked the house. The wife was badly beaten, the husband was shot in the head. It was a professional hit."

"Stephen mentioned he heard glass shatter around two this morning. He told the detective who came to our door just as Sam came to pick him up."

"Detective Shane Moyles," Deeks replied.

"Yes, that was him. Not very helpful on answering Stephen's questions on what happened. Thanks for calling, Marty. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome. Glad you're at Grandma's. Say hi to her from me, will you?"

"Tell her yourself." Thea smiled as she passed her cell over to Hetty. "Deeks for you."

"Mr Deeks. This is a wonderful surprise. Update me, so I can dig deeper." As if she'd never retired, Marty filled her into the case of Jason and Audrey Harper.

* * *

"You need to slow down, G. Now's not the time to rush into a case because you have another one next door to deal with. Mosley said she'd call Deeks, and I'm sure he's called Thea and Hetty, and Hetty's digging deeper into the case right now. Focus on our current case until we know more." Sam worried over his partner, but he understood the reasons. How many times had he been pushed to the limits with worry over Michelle over the years. It was why he wanted her retired from the CIA. Little did he know she'd be drawn out of retirement to expose her, resulting in her death. His rage flashed in his eyes for a split second before he pushed it back into the deepest part of his brain to deal with later. Why were the memories sneaking out today of all days?

"I see it in your eyes, Sam. You're worried about my family just as I am. How can I concentrate on our case, when we could be in danger?"

"Until Hetty calls and tells us otherwise, we go on as normal."

Callen nodded his head, his partner was right, but he still didn't like it. Sam watched him carefully, ensuring he didn't go lone wolf on this case—thankfully, he was his driver.

"And if she calls, I'll be right beside you all the way."

Callen smiled his appreciation at his brother. "Thanks, Sam."

His brotherhood meant the world to him. His words calling him brother had helped him through their near death experience in Mexico a while back. They'd all been in a foul mood with Mosley ever since, but at the end of the day, they'd gladly gone in to save her son from the boy's father, who was on their most wanted list. They'd promised to do the same thing for each of them, that's what family did for each other. Especially their family. Mosley had been sick to death of worry for her son, whom she'd missed terribly. It was the cost of going in under the radar that had put them into that situation, and how many times had they done the same for Hetty, including when she went to Romania to protect Callen?

"Okay!" Callen agreed. "I'm focusing."

Sam chuckled slightly, knowing how challenging it was for his partner, but he was at least trying.

"Good. Because we have a break and enter on the front door." They'd arrived at the victim's home and found the house wide open to the street. Pulling out their weapons, they moved inside on the count of three.

"Clear." Callen called from the kitchen.

"Clear." Sam repeated from the master bedroom. They'd gone through the entire property and found it empty, except for the mess.

"Someone's trashed the place looking for something."

"Same in the kitchen," Callen replied. "But what were they looking for?" They scanned the house and took photos of how they found it.

"Don't know. All we know is that the Lieutenant was hit over the head to render him unconscious, before they tied up and shot him in the temple, close range."

"Why trash the house? They took him from his vehicle along the PCH, that's miles from here."

"Which means that whoever was after the Lieutenant knew where he lived and his journey to and from work, including his schedule."

"Which is why I refuse to keep to a schedule. You remind Mosley on why we arrive at odd times each day, will you?"

"Why are you looking at me?" Sam raised his hands in defeat.

"Just saying." Callen kept his lips sealed on the matter of how Mosley favoured Sam over him, and he was the team leader.

Callen bent down after noticing a creak in the floor boards. He pulled back the rug and searched until he found what he was looking for. Sam stood back, keeping his eyes on their surroundings, incase whoever came during the night returned and attacked them.

"As I suspected." Callen pulled out the metal box from under the floor boards and picked the lock. He opened the lid and found cash and numerous passports inside.

"This is odd. The Lieutenant wasn't working for NCIS by any chance and we've been kept out of the loop on this?"

Sam instantly dialled Mosley's cell.

"Hanna. Have you found anything at the victim's home?"

"We have actually. Was the Lieutenant on NCIS' books by any chance?" It would explain the numerous passports and wads of cash inside the box. They each held such a tin in a safe somewhere secret, whether it be in his boat or in Callen's home.

"What have you found, Sam?"

"I asked first." He was pushing it with her, but they needed to know what they were up against.

Shay Mosley took in a deep breath before releasing it. "Yes, he was."

"Well that explains what we found hidden under the floor boards."

"His passports and cash," Shay responded.

"Spot on." Sam nodded to his partner and turned his attention back to their surroundings.

"Is this an attack on NCIS again?"

"Not sure. A CSI unit are on their way to your address, keep the place secure until they arrive. LAPD are sending a unit to protect the crime scene until they've finished investigating."

"Thanks." Sam disconnected the call.

"What did she say?" Callen rose from the floor, after placing the loose floor board back in its place, and the rug back over the area.

"Our suspicions are correct. A CSI unit and LAPD are on their way to investigate and secure the scene."

"Good." Sam saw the eagerness in his partner's eyes to focus on another case that wasn't in their jurisdiction.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Hetty pulled herself away from her desk after making a few calls and researching Jason and Audrey Harper through her own channels. Nothing had come up as to why they were targeted, which didn't sit well with her at all. What if it had been mistaken by the intruders and it had been the Campbells they were after? Fear washed through her. How many times would her surrogate son be hunted?

"Hetty. You look pale." Nell brought her a cup of tea over to her. "Drink this." She watched her old boss like a hawk, her hazel eyes were large with concern. Her age was creeping up on Hetty faster than she'd like, more than any of them had liked. It was why she was retired from NCIS. But she was family to them, and a grandmother to their three children.

"Thank you, my dear." Hetty took the seat overlooking her rose garden and sighed. She sipped the soothing Peking tea Nell had poured for her and tried to relax herself before her worry consumed her.

"You've found something on our neighbours?"

"No. Unfortunately I haven't."

"Oh!" Nell sat down, her children were playing in the garden, their energy was never ending. She watched them like a hawk, but unlike Tristan at this age, Hudson stuck close to his older sister, and she didn't have the worries of a wandering two year old again.

Hetty placed her cold hand over hers. "But that doesn't mean what I know you are thinking." She tried to reason, but she knew it was a lost cause. Callen would already have been thinking what she was then—that they had been the intended target. "Run through last night for me."

"Alice has been having nightmares for the past five nights. She believes there had been a man standing in her bedroom and calls out to us in fear. When we arrive, she is alone and very frightened. She can describe the man in such detail, but there is no evidence of anyone breaking into our home. We've taken it to her overworking imagination."

"It may be, but Alice is very much like you, my dear. If she believes there has been a man in her bedroom, it's probable she's right."

Nell's eyes widen at the news. "You cannot be serious, Hetty?"

"I am very serious."

"But Callen's searched the house looking for an entry, each time our house was secure."

"What time did Alice wake up last night?"

"Between midnight and 1am. I'm not sure about last night." She furrowed her brows. "You're not suggesting that this man entered Alice's bedroom has anything to do with what happened next door, do you?"

"I am." Hetty pressed her lips together. "However, not as an enemy, but as a protector. Trying to gain your attention through Alice to keep you safe."

"Like an angel?" Nell shook her head in disbelief.

"It is possible." Hetty sat back in her chair. "Continue with last night's events."

Nell nodded and continued. "We didn't find anyone in her bedroom. Stephen agreed to sleep on her bedroom floor, while I checked on the boys and then went back to bed."

"Then Stephen heard glass smashing around 2am, and he checked the house again before coming to bed." Hetty had heard that much from him that morning, and how he thought he'd imagined hearing the glass shattering.

"If Stephen had heard anything next door, he would have gone in to investigate." Nell mentioned.

"And your bedroom is closer to your neighbours, Alice's bedroom is on the other side of the house."

"Yes." Nell rubbed her hands up and down her arms for comfort. "Do you mean to say, that this angel intended on Stephen being in Alice's bedroom last night to protect him from what happened next door?"

"It is possible. But there is another scenario to consider. Alice's cry out might put an intruder off from your home due to you having children. No one knows you have a family. If someone was after your husband, they'd be looking for a house without children."

Nell blew out the breath she was holding.

"You are here and safe. That is all that matters." At that moment, Hetty's cell vibrated. A glint of a smile hinted in her eyes when she saw the caller's id.

"Good morning, Grisha." She loved the moments when she could call him by his real name, and not by the name he hid under with his family.

"Morning, Hetty!" Callen climbed into the black challenger and buckled in. "Has Deeks been in touch with you?"

"He has. And I have looked into the matter. I haven't found anything on why your neighbours were targeted." She pressed her lips, knowing how her boy would take this news.

"Then it should have been our home they were after." Hetty's admission confirmed his suspicious.

"That is my suspicion."

"Someone is after me then." He fisted his hands in anger. So close, too close for comfort.

"What is the case Mosley has you on currently? You will have to tell her that you are at risk."

"A Lieutenant who was also on NCIS' books. He was involved in a crash last night on his way home along the PCH. Witnesses state he was knocked unconscious and tied up before being led away in an unmarked van. His body was dumped and found beside the Colorado Street Freeway Exit in Glendale this morning. Gunshot wound to the temple, close range. Sam and I went to the victim's home, it was trashed. Someone was looking for something. I found a hidden cavity under the floor boards and a metal tin inside. There were wads of cash and numerous passports inside."

Hetty frowned. "This case is sounding too familiar to your neighbours'. I'll speak with Mr Deeks and see if he can find out anything more on the matter."

Callen gritted his teeth. Hetty was right. It was similar to his neighbour's case, and Jason had lost his life for no reason. His mind whirled over Jason Harper. Why did they choose him? Then it hit him. Jason looked more like the old him with the close crop of hair. He'd changed since he and Nell had gone in hiding, and now he was wondering if they needed to again. It wasn't good for Alice, Tristan and Hudson, but they may not have a choice.

"There is no need to worry about your family at present, Grisha. They are safe with me."

"Thanks, Hetty."

Sam pulled up at the boat shed to meet with the Lieutenant's supervisor. "This is Special Agents G. Callen, and Sam Hanna." Kensi Blye announced to the Commander.

"Thank you for speaking with us." Callen sat opposite Commander Ed Shorten.

"Anything to get to the bottom of who kidnapped and killed my Lieutenant."

"Has he been working on anything that would cause for him to be targeted and for his house to be ransacked?"

The Commander shook his head. "No. I've passed on all of his recent assignments to your office, I hope they can find something to explain this. I've had to warn my other staff to be aware, just in case."

"Thank you, Commander." Callen kept closed lip on what he and Hetty had discussed earlier.

They waited until the Commander left before the three of them held a discussion on their own.

"What aren't the two of you telling me?" Kensi looked between the two men whom she looked up to as brothers. They were fun uncles to their son, Zander, who was the same age at Callen and Nell's son, Hudson. The two blue eyes blond two year olds looked more like brothers than non-blood related cousins. She'd just discovered she was pregnant with their second, which placed her on desk duty and non-field work like she was right now, speaking with the Commander at the boat shed. She knew the men had visited the victim's home and had found something of interest, but she was in the dark on their discovery.

"Lieutenant Tony Sutton had a hiding place for a locked tin under his floor boards. We found a wad of cash and multiple passports, all with various looks and names."

"He was a spy?" Kensi inquired, thinking this must be why he was taken out.

"NCIS, actually," Sam revealed. "I asked Mosley, and she admitted this to me."

"Do we have a mole situation again?" Kensi's eyes darted around the boat shed, she thought it was safe, how wrong she was.

"The case we're working on is similar to the one LAPD are working on next door to our place." Callen added.

"Hang on, what happened to your neighbours?"

Callen drew in a breath and revealed all they knew about the crime that took place during the night. "The odd thing is, other than the glass smashing, I didn't hear a sound. They were professionals, and they were looking for something."

"What are you thinking?" Kensi saw the worry on Sam and Callen's faces.

"Case of wrong house." Callen breathed out. He sat back in the wooden chair and rubbed his forefinger and thumb as he ran over the situation before them.

"You think you were targeted?"

"This Lieutenant is also working for NCIS. It's possible it's NCIS related. We could have another mole situation," Callen added.

"But in theory, this is just an assumption," Kensi stated, hoping with all her being, Callen was wrong.

"Hetty agrees with my thoughts on this." Callen rubbed his hand over his longish hair. "She can't find anything on the Harpers as to why they were targeted.

"I'll call Marty, see what he knows." She went to dial her husband, but Sam stopped her.

"Mosley called him after we told her about the neighbour's situation first thing. He's been in contact with Nell and Hetty. What we know is from Deeks."

"Oh! Of course someone would have spoken to Marty already." She was the last to know in their family, she realised.

"We would have told you earlier if we'd had the chance," Callen grabbed her hand. "Don't worry about us, Nell and the kids are with Hetty. No one is going home until we know for certain we weren't the targets."

Kensi nodded, relieved somewhat. "Is it safe for us to go home?"

"Not sure. But just in case, it might be safer to go to either your mom's or Deeks'."

"Yeah, you're right." She nodded her head, her emotions getting the better of her and she quickly rushed off for the bathroom. They heard her throw up, but they weren't certain if it was just the pregnancy hormones or worry over this latest case.

"We should send them away like last time." Sam stated quietly, not wanting Kensi to hear him.

"But where to?" Callen knitted his brows, thinking. "Granger's gone, he helped us out the last time with our families." The last time a threat came Sam and Callen's way, Owen Granger had sent them away with Deeks and Kensi to Brandon, Oregon. They had been safe there the last time, but with Granger dead from the agent orange, who could they turn to? Callen hit his palm on his forehead. Of course. "Hetty." Why hadn't he thought of her earlier? She still possessed many houses across the globe. They could send them far away from Los Angeles until they'd resolved the problem. He'd have to call Gibbs in to help. His father was far away in a foreign land as prisoner, thanks to the US Bureaucrats who'd betrayed his trust and all his work for his country. They traded his father for a couple of journalists, so they could be returned to their young children. His half sister, Alex, and his nephew, missed him. Callen did as well, although their relationship had remained strained.

"Yes, Hetty." Sam and Kensi agreed.

"Good. Then I'll make the call." Callen looked directly at Kensi. "I think you and Zander should go with them."

"Mosley's not going to like it," Sam stated.

"She doesn't get a say in this. Kensi's expecting and they have a son. We can't risk anything happening to them."

"What don't I get a say in?" Shay Mosley had heard the last bit, even though they had kept their voices low. She had sharp hearing, and her ears pricked up at her name.

"Assistant Director." Callen couldn't believe her timing. Too much like Hetty with impeccable timing.

Shay raised her right brow, waiting on an answer.

"If you overheard our conversation, you know exactly what we were discussing." Callen replied, not pleased with her presence right then.

"Agent Callen. A word." She walked into one of the interview rooms and switched off the microphone and video feed.

Callen brooded in the corner of the room, not wishing to capitulate and sit on the suspect's side of the table.

Shay turned and studied the man before her. There was very little written in his file about his family until five years ago and from what she'd observed, Sam was closest to him. It was why right now she separated the partners.

"Our case is too similar to what happened to my neighbours. We suspect we have another mole situation, and an attack on NCIS. There is nothing on the Harpers to say they were involved in anything to have the invasion last night. It's looking very much like we were the targets."

"You're good at assuming you're at threat, Agent Callen. You know I do what it takes to keep you and your family safe. You did risk your life for my son. I am indebted to all four of you." Guilt washed over her. Zander Deeks almost became an orphan a while back and she would not repeat that risk on her agents again. She tried to separate the detective to give the boy a parent if the rescue had gone belly-up. But Deeks had proven her wrong and gone with the team anyway.

"I need to hide my family, Kensi and Zander, until we know for certain we're not at risk."

"What about Sam's daughter?"

"She's safe where she is."

"And you thought that last time with Aiden, did you not?"

"That was different. Kahled is dead, and the threat on Sam's family has vanished after Michelle was killed." Callen fisted his hands, not pleased to be going over how they failed to find Michelle in time before the air ran out. It broke him to see Sam suffer like he had. It should not have happened. And he was determined to do what it took to keep all their families safe.

"You think Sam should remove Kamran from her Military School too?" He frowned, trying to piece together the woman before him.

"Yes, I am, actually. And my son, Derrek. We cannot afford to lose another family member after Michelle Hanna."

Relief washed through him. Mosley agreed with him. He'd felt for so long she was against him in every aspect of the job. "Thank you."

"No one outside our unit is to know."

"I need Agent Gibbs on this."

"I'll allow Agent Gibbs." Mosley hid her smile. The man before her had more people he trusted like family than he'd let on when she first arrived at the LA office.

Callen nodded and walked out of the room, grabbed his partner, and headed back to OSP. He had a few phone calls to make on the way.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: I would like to thank those of you who have left reviews. For my guest readers, I wish I could reply to your reviews, but this will have to do. To answer some of your questions, Deeks and Kensi are married with a child, Zander, and another one on the way. In the prequel (Poisk), they had just discovered Kensi was pregnant. To get the whole picture of this story, I would recommend to you to start from the beginning with Lines Crossed, Hunted and Poisk, as this is the fourth part of the series. It explains a great deal with how Callen and Nell became Stephen and Thea Campbell, and what they have been through as a family so far._

 **Chapter 4**

Detective Shane Moyles rang the doorbell again. The white painted brick home was picture perfect, with an immaculate garden that had been well tended by the wife, he presumed. There was no sign outside of the family that lived inside, but he'd heard the children earlier when he'd spoken with the husband. He was on his way out and was picked up by an African American man, who looked like he worked out in a gym every day. Not someone you'd wished to tackle and take down. Stephen Campbell had told him the man was his lift to work. He'd had someone back at headquarters to do a background check on the Campbell family, and had very little to go by. Three years they'd lived in this house, prior to that, they had lived for five years on Vancouver Island. He'd been a pilot of a sea plane company in Victoria, transporting cargo around the island. In Los Angeles, it stated he was a pilot for a small company who flew wealthy customers across the western parts of their country. The man didn't look much of a pilot, nor did his friend. He'd also had the black vehicle searched in their database, and what had returned to him was that of a US Navy SEAL.

What was a US Navy SEAL from San Diego and a sea plane pilot from Victoria, Canada, doing together? He was a curious man, and he wanted to get to the bottom of it. Stephen Campbell heard glass shattering around 2am. He'd walked around his home and checked all doors and windows and returned to bed. He'd heard nothing else. How can no one not hear what went on next door? They'd tried to interview Audrey Harper before she'd been taken to hospital for treatment. She had no idea what time the men entered, or how many there were of them. She was in shock and terrified for her life.

Did Stephen Campbell know more than he was letting on? He rang the doorbell for the umpteenth time and sighed. It was dead quiet inside the house, too quiet for children. He spied a lanky colleague of his head his way. Detective Deeks had returned to the precinct without a word of where he'd been. Shane hadn't seen Deeks in many years and had wondered what had happened to him. No one close to him would tell him anything. There were too many secrets going on and he didn't like it. Like now, why was Deeks at his crime scene?

"What are you doing here, Deeks?"

"Hey, Moyles. What you doing?" He indicated to the house he was standing outside of. "Thought the crime scene was next door?"

"Trying to reach the family inside. The husband mentioned hearing glass shattering this morning, but nothing else. How can no one hear what went on next door?"

Deeks ran his eyes over the home like it was new to him. He knew the inside of this home like his own, and knew the master bedroom bordered that side of the house. He also knew the occupants and that Callen had been sleeping on the floor of his daughter's bedroom. Alice's bedroom was along the other side of the house, next door to her brothers'.

"Do they have kids?" Deeks asked him as if it was the most natural question to ask.

"Yes, not sure how many, but maybe two?"

"Do you have kids?" Deeks asked Shane.

"No, I don't. You know what the job entails. I don't have time for family."

"Kids keep their parents awake a lot when they're little. They could have been busy with one of their kids, or dead to the world due to the lack of sleep."

"The husband heard something. Just the glass shattering. When we looked inside the house, the only glass broken was from a broken glass table. The rest of the glassware is untouched, same with the windows."

"How did they enter?" Deeks was in need for more intel than the report he'd read back at the precinct.

"Through the front door. Picked the lock like pros."

Deeks looked over to the Harpers' home and studied the front door that was slightly more forward than the Campbells'.

"Why are you here, Deeks?"

"Bates thought I could be of assistance to you. You know, another set of eyes."

"Bates never mentioned to me about you coming to help." Moyles narrowed his eyes and dialled his cell. He waited for his boss to pick up.

"How's it going out there, Moyles?"

"Deeks is here. Do you know why?" He watched Marty Deeks wander over to the property next door where the crime scene was taped off for access to anyone other than LAPD.

Lieutenant Roger Bates knitted his brows at the mention of Marty Deeks being at this crime scene. He'd seen him searching something earlier on his computer with deep concentration, and thought he'd found some anomaly in a cold case he had him working on.

"You could do with the help." Bate wondered why he was telling his detective the lie that slipped off his lips so easily. But when Marty Deeks did something, it was for a reason, and there was a damn good reason why he was at Moyles' crime scene. He'd let it play out and see where Deeks led them to. After the years of being the NCIS Liaison, the detective had learned a great deal and had a sharp eye to detail. It was the reason why he'd placed him on the cold cases that were piling too high for his liking. He received letters from families of victims, asking for updates constantly. When Deeks suddenly returned to LAPD full time, he knew exactly where to place him.

"He better not get under my toes." Moyles complained to him.

"If he does, it's for a good reason. Trust him."

Moyles heaved out a breath. "Yes, boss." He wandered back over to the crime scene and spotted Deeks eyeing the scene before him.

"We're waiting on a CSI team to arrive to process it all."

"The wife, has she said anything?" Deeks noted the broken glass table and knew instantly that was what Callen had heard. There was no evidence of anything else broken, although the house was a mess.

"Not much. She was badly bashed. Couldn't tell us how many there were. She was in shock and not in a state to tell us much, other than a description of the man who'd killed her husband."

Deeks became curious to this knew information. "Did he have an accent?"

"She says, Eastern European."

"So could be Russian?"

"Not sure. Why the interest?"

"Just going through a process of elimination. There was a situation where a house was trashed like this three years ago. Thankfully the occupants were away on holiday at the time. They were Russian militants."

"Is that the case where the house was fired upon with bullets?"

"Yes." Deeks answered. "I didn't attend the house, I was away out of town at the time."

"And I was on holiday in Louisiana. But I heard about it. A Navy man." He wandered again about the man who drove Stephen Campbell away that morning.

"Something like that."

"I heard NCIS took over the case."

Deeks remained quiet as he looked around the room for what he was looking for. A rug and a prospect of a hidden space underneath. He hoped for Callen and Nell's sake he found a similar metal tin under the floor boards to eliminate them as being the targets. Unfortunately, there was glass everywhere and if he started shifting things before CSI arrived, Moyles would be peeved with him. He decided to take a look in one of the bedrooms, and it didn't take him long to notice something out of place. The wardrobe doors had been pulled off their hinges and the contents thrown over the room. But underneath he could see part of the rug that was clean. He walked over, and snapped a photo before he lifted it up. A smile hinted on his lips. Like he thought. He found the loose floor board and lifted it up. A green tin with a lock sat snug in the false cavity.

"What have you found?" Moyles wasn't letting Deeks out of his sight.

"This." Deeks pulled the tin up and picked the lock open. Like he'd expected. A wad of cash and multiple passports with various aliases. Now he had important information to hand over to NCIS to link the two cases. Callen can breathe now and know that they weren't the targets.

"What is this?" Moyles pulled on disposable gloves and lifted out the passports after Deeks took photos of the contents.

"Proof of what the men were looking for."

"Evidence for what though? All I can see is multiple passports—"

"With different aliases inside. Here are some other names you can look into." Deeks told him.

"How did you know to look for this in here?"

"I didn't know where, just needed to look more closely at the details. Don't you think it's interesting how this area of the rug was untouched by the contents from the wardrobe?"

"That is interesting. It left this area free. But why?"

"That's what we need to find out." Deeks rose from his crouched position and sent the photos through to Eric at OSP, and then through to Bates. "Look what I found at the Harper's home? Same tin found in Lieutenant Sutton's home this morning, an NCIS case." He kept this piece of information from Moyles, knowing that once Bates and Mosley realise the link in the cases it would become an NCIS case.

His cell beeped twice. "Thanks, Deeks. Glad to have you on board this case. Callen will be relieved." Eric sent back to him.

"I knew you were up to something, Deeks. Thought you'd found something to do with a cold case you were working on. I should have known this had NCIS written all over it. I'll be in contact with Mosley and have you on point to work with NCIS on this. I'll let Moyles know." Bates knew Moyles wasn't going to like being pulled from the case, and he had to keep Deeks' past with NCIS secret from anyone who weren't in the know to keep them all safe.

Shane Moyles' cell rang and he exited the house to answer it. "Yes, boss."

"We have a problem with your case. Something has come up that links it to a current NCIS case. Same sit rep on the way the victims were killed during the night. I need you to pass it all over to the investigative agents when they arrive."

"No, boss. You can't take this case away from me. There's something with the neighbours I'm suspect about."

"Like what?" Bates mumbled.

"The husband heard the glass smashing at 2am, but he didn't hear anything before or afterwards. And now there is no one in the house. I've done my research on the family and they've been there three years, moved from Victoria. I only can trace this family for five years in Canada, nothing prior to them arriving there. I think the husband might be in on what happened last night."

"What's the name of the neighbour, Moyles?" All the information he could get from Moyles, he'd pass onto Mosley when he called her.

"Stephen and Thea Campbell." Bates broke the pencil in his hand. He knew that name and knew instantly why Deeks had been investigating. "Nothing to worry about the neighbours. They're a family and they don't look suspect in this case."

"I disagree." Moyles pressed on.

"Where's Deeks?"

Moyles looked behind him and spotted Deeks heading for him. "He's here now." Moyles passed his cell onto Deeks.

"Boss."

"You need to fill in Moyles on who the Campbells are."

"You know I can't do that, boss."

"I'm commanding you to."

"You can demand all you like, I don't know him enough to trust him with this information." Deeks gritted his teeth and moved away from Moyles as he spoke with their boss. "You only know because you had to at the time. I can't risk it."

"Okay. But Moyles isn't happy having this case taken from him."

"Tell him he's better off the case than on it. If NCIS are involved, you understand the dangers is carries with it."

"That I do."

"I'll hang around until NCIS turn up."

"Okay. Pass me back to Moyles."

Deeks handed Moyles his cell. "Boss wants to speak with you." Deeks walked away, knowing Moyles wasn't going to like what Bates was about to tell him.

"Pass on all the information you have on this case to Deeks, and he will pass it onto the NCIS agents when they arrive."

"Why him, boss? I'm the lead investigator on this crime scene."

"He's dealt with them before. It's better this way. You are unknown to them."

"Is that all?" Moyles set his jaw hard, annoyed at being side swept under the carpet far from this case.

"Yes. Now get back here. I have another case for you."

"I will when I'm finished here." He hung up his cell and slipped it onto silence. He didn't want any further disruptions from his work.

Bates sighed. He knew Moyles was going to be difficult on this case. He dialled Assistant Director Shay Mosley and waited for her to pick up her phone.

"Lieutenant Bates. What can I do for you?" She wasn't in the mood for his call, she had families to hide from whomever was after NCIS.

"We have a case that's similar to a current case of yours. Detective Deeks has sent through the information to your people."

Shay looked at her computer with the photos Deeks had sent through to Eric. "I have them on my computer."

"You called him this morning, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did. I had an agent who was more worried about your case than his own. I had to do some research to make sure his family were safe."

"So you are aware it's the Campbell's neighbours?"

"Yes, I do." Shay studied the aliases carefully. She'd have to research the names, but none of them were familiar to her.

"You can have the crime scene. Deeks will be waiting for your agents. Don't send Callen or Sam. I have a nosey detective already suspecting Agent Callen."

"Then sending him there won't be a problem. It will dispel his suspicions." She was short on agents with Blye being pregnant, and she and Nell going into hiding along with their children. "I will need Deeks on this case."

"You can have him." Bates smiled, Mosley did need him after all, she was just annoyed with him for something, but it was a sore subject with Deeks and he refused to divulge anything to him.

"Thank you." Mosley disconnect the call and noted Eric at her door. "Come in, Eric."

"I've found something interesting on the aliases Deeks sent through."

"What is it, Eric?"

Eric pulled the image and alias of Nico Alfeno, from one of the Lieutenant's false passports Callen found that morning. "This alias, Nico Alfeno, worked alongside this alias found from Callen's next door neighbour, Jason Harper. Or should I say, Oscar Gunner. They worked together on the Federov case in Georgia last year. And I don't mean Georgia USA either."

Shay scanned her eyes over the case and frowned. "How many other agents worked on this case with them?"

"This wasn't an easy case to get access to, I had to ask Director Vance for permission. He gave me access after I told him two agents were dead, and one was living next door to Callen and Nell."

"And?"

"Another two agents and their handler. But it's not easy as their real identities have been redacted from the files and only their aliases are mentioned. I'm still trying to gain access to the intel. But the person in charge of this case isn't playing ball. Director Vance is working on it for me."

"Why is that?"

"It was a joint task force with the CIA."

"Why aren't I surprised! How many times do we have to pick up the pieces from their mess, yet, when it affects our people, they shut up shop?" Shay complained.

"You'll get the information you need soon." She was certain Leon will get what he wants when he plays hard. If not, she'll have to make a few calls herself.

"Update me when you have the information. We have another three agents lives hanging in the balance until we can find out who they are, and place them into protective custody. I'll also let Agent Callen know he's not at risk here."

"Thanks." Eric spun around and walked swiftly back into Ops.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

It was odd for Callen and Sam to pull up at the crime scene when it was next door to where he lived. Callen was thankful his neighbours were out at work and not around to question him why he was there. He and Sam had argued with Mosley on them going, destroying all the efforts they'd gone to with their aliases. But after what had occurred next door, Callen didn't think he and Nell would ever feel safe living there again. It was a shame to have to move again as it was a really nice home, and they'd loved living there—like they had in their home in Victoria. Their dog, Buddy, had lived a happy life with them in their new home just as much as the previous one, and preferred the warmer climate in his older years. He'd been gone three months, and Callen, Nell and the kids, felt the loss immensely.

"I feel strange coming home to a crime scene. It doesn't sit easy with me." Callen finally commented after being left with his thoughts on the drive over.

"Me neither. I hope that nosey detective has left, Mosley said Deeks was taking over and working with us on it."

"Good. Didn't like the detective we spoke to this morning, snooping around you as if you had something to do with the neighbours' incident."

Sam tensed under his shirt, he'd seen the suspicion in the detectives eyes at him too. He was an honourable man, yet, there were some cops who looked at him for his colour, not the man. Yet, it wasn't just him the detective was suspicious about. "He was suspicious about you too."

"Trying to tie things where they shouldn't be. He'd never solve the case if Deeks hadn't come along and found our connection, so we could take over the case." Callen stepped out of the vehicle and walked over to his old team mate. "Deeks. Good to have you back with us."

"Much to the annoyance of Moyles. Heard he asked you questions this morning. He wasn't happy having to hand this case over to me to pass onto you guys."

"He's not around still is he?"

"He's inside."

"Oh great! This will be interesting." Callen's visage darkened. "Why is he still here?"

"Stalling. Not wanting to drop this case just yet, thinks the neighbour is suspect."

Callen tensed his jaw and fisted his hand, not looking forward to facing the annoying detective twice in one day. "Which is why Mosley wanted us here and not someone else." He grumbled over the fact he was here for work as Agent Callen and not as Stephen Campbell, the neighbour. Kensi was on her way over to the hospital to speak with Audrey Harper once she was able to.

"Bates wanted me to tell him who you were. I refused."

"Good one. Now I have to enter and reveal my real identity to someone who is off the case," Callen complained.

"What did you find?" Sam walked with Deeks and Callen, and entered the master bedroom, where the hidden cavity was found.

"Here."

Callen knelt on the floor and studied the area. "Why is that area of the rug clear when the contents from the wardrobe are everywhere else?"

"That's what I wondered. It was where I found the hidden cavity."

Deeks' head lifted when he spotted Moyles enter the bedroom. "You still here? Thought Bates needed you back at the precinct?"

"These the NCIS agents?" His eyes widened when he recognised Callen and Sam from that morning. "You two!"

"Time you left." Deeks stood between Moyles and his friends.

"I want answers first. Why didn't you reveal who you were earlier?"

Callen rose to his feet and walked over to Moyles. "It's okay, Deeks. I'll deal with him. You and Sam work out why the rug was clear."

Deeks nodded and went to work with Sam. It felt good to be back with his old team, even if his wife wasn't there with them. He knew the reason, and he was excited about there being another child on the way.

"Detective Moyles. In our line of work, we deal with crime that's far more dangerous than that of LAPD. We have to keep our true identities secret to keep our families safe. Are you with me?"

Moyles stood with his arms crossed over his chest in defence. "I hear you. What I want to know is why you didn't hear what went down during the night other the glass table shattering."

Callen's eyes darted to the coffee table Moyles mentioned and scanned the room. "Is this where they held the Harpers captive?"

"We found the husband in here lying down on the floor near to the broken coffee table." Moyles showed Callen the blood splatter. "And the wife was tied to one of the dining chairs over there. She saw everything."

Callen mulled over the information. He studied the scene closely before standing back again. "Do you have any clues as to why there is an area in the master bedroom that appears untouched? Where the hidden cavity that Deeks found is." He added for clarification. He didn't know Moyles nor his ability to detail.

"I haven't a clue. There doesn't appear to be any pressure marks on the rug to suggest a piece of furniture was there previously."

"No, I thought the same." Callen nodded. "Thanks, Detective. We can take over from here."

"You never gave me your name?" Moyles wasn't going to let up until he had the final piece to the puzzle.

"I'm a ghost." Callen walked away to where he'd left Deeks and Sam, not wishing to provide his true identity to Detective Moyles. He was off the case and it was none of his business who he was. If he had no choice but to work the crime scene next door to where he lived, then he was going to ensure only those who needed to know, knew who he was.

"Come up with anything?" Callen looked between Deeks and Sam.

"A thought." Deeks rose from where he was and walked over to the bed. "Pretend I'm Jason Harper for a moment. I'm woken from a sound, can't be much of a sound since the neighbour only heard the glass coffee table smashing, which I suspect happened after they were tired up." Deeks looked over to Sam and Callen. "What is the most precious thing you'd want protected from an intruder?"

Deeks moved from the bed to the untouched area and crouched on the floor, in hope to be hidden from whoever was in the house. "Men enter. To me it sounds like a group of hired men, could be women, but from what Moyles told me from the wife, there wasn't any women she saw." Deeks added for explanation. "They demand for something but Harper doesn't give them anything. They rip the doors off the wardrobe and pull everything out to look for said item they are searching for. Once they can't find it, they pull him and his wife into the family room, tie them up and demand answers. They trash the whole house but don't think to look where they first found Harper. Because he refuses to give them what they came for, they shoot him. Perhaps the smashing of the glass coffee table was to disguise the sound of the wife screaming, or bashing her?"

"Possible." Callen mulled over his memory of the night before. "But I only heard the glass smashing, nothing else. It was dead quiet afterwards. So quiet, I could only hear my blood pulsing passed my ears. "I think the glass smashing was the last thing that occurred. I wouldn't have heard any of the other noises from Alice's bedroom. I was dead to the world until I heard that, and Thea didn't hear any of it." He referred to his wife as her alias just incase Moyles was still around, snooping.

"Thea is known to sleep deeply, I'm the one who usually hears the kids first." Callen added.

"Not surprised at that," Deeks added. "Must be a dad thing. I'm always the one to hear Zander calling out in the night, you know what Kensi's like, out like a light."

Both men nodded in response to Deek's remarks about it being a dad thing. At every sound in the night, they get up and investigate. Especially when you had a wife and children to protect. These men took their roles as husband and father, seriously, after all they saw in their line of work, and the threats that had come their way in the past.

"I do like your theory that perhaps Jason crouched down over this area. Are there any footprints?"

"He wouldn't have been wearing shoes just getting out from bed." Deeks took his shoes off and mimicked the position of crouching before stepping away and looking for evidence of footprints being left on the rug. Nothing. "This fits. How much would Harper have weighed?"

"More than me," Callen replied. "What I used to be before Canada."

Deeks nodded. "Another thirty pounds then. That's doable."

"What about another scenerio?" Sam walked forward. "Deeks, you be Harper, lie on the bed." Deeks capitulated and laid down. "You're fast asleep, the intruders are quiet like pros. You have no idea they're hovering over your bed until you feel a gun to your head. The intruder is standing here, the light's switched on, and his accomplices start destroying the wardrobe and it's contents while the first intruder remains here with the gun pointed at Jason. The wife is quiet in fear for their lives, which would explain why G never heard anything."

"Then they're taken into the family room, tied up and interrogated while the other men go through the house like fire, not realising that the one thing they were after, the man with the gun was standing on top of. Jason's killed with a silencer, they bash the wife for information, she pleads for her life. Something breaks the coffee table." Callen steps back and walks out of the bedroom into the family area. His eyes return to the coffee table. "Where did they find Jason's body?"

"Next to the broken table. The wife was found still tied to the dining chair." Deeks answered for him.

"No way to contact anyone or help her husband, if he was still alive. But a close range bullet wound would have resulted in instant death." Callen shuddered at the memory of Michael Reinhardt's death. One second he's telling Callen he was his father, the next, he was lying dead on the ground. He would have been next if it wasn't for his partner, who stood beside him as they tried to figure out the case in front of them.

"Then who called the police this morning?" Sam asked.

Callen's eyes searched for a mobile phone. Nothing. Landline was disconnected. Like many modern families, they revolved around their mobile devices rather than their landline. He pulled his cell out and made a call.

"Hey, Callen."

"Kensi. Have you managed to interview Audrey Harper yet?"

"I'm still waiting. Hang on, her doctor is walking over to me." She held onto her call and rose from the plastic chair she'd been sitting on for the past half hour.

"Agent Blye. Mrs Harper is awake and willing to speak with you now."

"Thank you, Doctor." Kensi followed Dr Miles Compton to the room. "Callen, what information are you after?"

"Who called the police? If the wife was tied to the chair, there was no way to make a call this morning. And, why the area for the hidden cavity appeared clear of stuff and untouched from the mess these men made?"

"I'll get back to you when I have some answers." Kensi disconnect the call and entered the private room. Audrey Harper looked like she'd been bashed pretty badly, the left side of her face was swollen and purple from bruising. Her heart went out to the woman who'd witnessed her husband's death.

"Hello, Mrs Harper. Is it okay if I call you Audrey?" The woman gave a slight nod, but she looked to be in pain from the movement. "I'm Special Agent Kensi Blye from NCIS. I have some questions to ask you about what happened last night."

"What's NCIS?" The woman looked confused. Her dark brown hair was a contrast to her pail face and green eyes.

"Naval Criminal Investigation Service."

"Why are you investigating? Where's the LAPD detective I saw earlier?" Audrey looked exhausted from her ordeal.

"Detective Moyles has had to hand over the case to my team."

"I don't understand?" She swallowed and coughed at the motion. Kensi moved to pass over a cup of water in to her. She waited for her to swallow the contents, she was slow, but it was understandable in her condition.

"Do you know what your husband did for his occupation?"

"Yes, he was an engineer for CAMTRAX."

Kensi had read that detail in the file she'd been given earlier, but the company from what Eric could see was a shell for another company he'd yet to find out.

"Have you met any of your husband's colleagues before?"

"What's CAMTRAX got to do with the Navy?"

"We have found a green tin under the floor boards." Kensi moved her cell closer to look at the photos Deeks had sent through to her. "We found this cash and multiple passports in different names. We have proof that your husband worked for NCIS." She understood the way it was, how they all set a lie in place to protect their families from the work they did. Here, Jason Harper, used various aliases to live by. Jason Harper wasn't even his real name, Eric was still trying to find out who he really was. But what they did know was that his alias, Oscar Gunner, had been used on his CIA joint case last year, and now they had two men who had worked on that case, killed during the night. Same night. Someone was after retribution or tying up loose ends. They needed to find out what was going on before they lost anyone else from this operation.

"I don't understand?" Tears stung her cheeks. "The men spoke a language I didn't understand. I was shocked to know Jason understood them."

"I cannot go into details, but I understand the language might have been Russian."

Audrey nodded. "Is…was Jason Harper his real name?" Suddenly she realised there was more to the man she loved that he'd hidden from her.

"No, it wasn't." Kensi placed her hand over the woman's. "It's common for all of us to live under an alias to protect our families. Unfortunately, whoever was after your husband, found him anyway."

"He never behaved like he was worried about anything. He travelled a lot for work, and he sometimes might be away for a couple of months. But I'm busy with my own business, I didn't mind it."

"We cannot find anyone working for CAMTRAX in our system. It looks like it's a shell company that was set up for a cover."

More tears spilled down her cheeks. Slowly, Audrey wiped at the tears, careful of her injuries. She had two fractured ribs that were going to take a while to recover from.

"It says in my file that you own an advertisement company. Did someone from your business try to contact you this morning?"

"Yes. My business partner, Rebekah. When I didn't answer, she drove over and let herself into the house."

"Rebekah called the police?"

"Yes. My memory is hazy, I was in and out of consciousness all night. Each time I wake up, I forgot what happened, until I tried to move and realised I was tied to the chair. Then it all came flooding back to me."

"Your neighbours didn't hear anything other than glass smashing. Were the intruders quiet?"

"It took me a while to realise they were there. I'd taken a sleeping pill because I'd been having trouble sleeping of late, and was fast asleep when they arrived. I must have slept through them trashing our bedroom, because when I was pulled out of bed, the room was a mess."

"Where was Jason by this point?"

"Tried to a chair where they took me to. I was falling asleep as the men tried to ask me questions, but I didn't understand them. There was one, he had fractured English. Wanted to know where something was." Audrey frowned.

"What was it they were after?"

"I'm not sure. It's not the tin you found. It sounded foreign, French I think. Fabigé. I may have it completely wrong." Audrey tried to think carefully back to the events from the previous night, but all that kept running through her mind was the execution of her husband. She shuddered at the memory and opened her eyes to forget the horror.

Kensi's brow lifted as her mind thought about what Audrey Harper spoke about. She typed something into her cell and brought up the Fabergé egg, The Coronation. It was the most popular one of the eggs. "Would it be something like this?"

Audrey's eyes widened. "What is it?"

"It goes back to the last Tsar's coronation in Russia. There were a few eggs made, this one was titled, The Coronation. Do you know which Fabergé egg it was they were searching for?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know anything about these eggs." She was in disbelief her husband died because of these eggs.

"I'm sorry for putting you through all of these questions. You've been very helpful." Kensi finished questioning the woman and left to call Callen. At least now they knew what it was they were after. Her heart went out to the wife who had no knowledge of the life her husband lived. It was unfortunate she couldn't help them further on the information of which of the Fabergé eggs these Russians were after.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"This is about a Fabergé egg?" Callen asked Kensi, who was in disbelief over the discovery. He'd read about them, and knew there were collectors all around the world who owned them these day, only a couple remained in Russia. "So it wasn't the hidden tin we found they were after?"

"No. Audrey knew nothing about her husband's secret life as an NCIS agent, which is nothing knew to us." How many times had they all created a fake life to tell friends who knew their real identities over the years?

"But she's been very helpful on what they were looking for. She thought it was French, not Russian."

"I suppose Fabergé sounds more French." Callen chewed on the inside of his cheek, thinking. "Pass on the details to Eric. Do you have the details of her business partner who found her this morning? We need to interview her."

"I do. I'll send it through to you." Kensi sounded tired and needed to sit down after her busy morning.

"Go back to OSP. Take it easy, or I'll have Deeks on my back."

Kensi smiled at his concern for her by using Deeks as a cover, when she knew it was Callen who was making sure she was okay. "Thanks, Callen."

By the time Callen, Sam and Deeks, returned to the Boat Shed, Rebekah Gaskill was waiting for them to interview her about what she found this morning. She was their first point of witness other than Audrey herself.

"Hi, Rebekah Gaskill?" Callen walked over and shook her hand. "I'm…"

"I know who you are. You are Audrey and Jason's neighbour, Stephen. Audrey's mentioned you and your family a few times."

"Oh!" Callen was taken back. "I didn't know them very well. They kept to themselves. We need to ask you some questions of what you saw when you entered the house this morning."

"Sure." She was shaking and she wrapped her arms around herself for comfort.

Sam walked over with a blanket and placed it over her shoulders. She looked up at him and smiled. "Thank you." She pulled the blanket closer. "I can't stop shaking. It's terrible. I keep thinking I'm stuck in a terrible dream, and I'll wake up and find it's all okay."

"You're in shock." Callen looked over and spotted Deeks making their guest a cup of tea. "Detective Deeks is making you a cup of tea. We appreciate you coming in to talk to us."

"Anything to help you find who did this."

"How well did you know Jason?" Callen decided to get the background, hoping it would calm the woman before getting into the details of what she saw that morning.

"Pretty well. He was always really friendly, happy guy. Generous too."

"How so?"

"Always helping the woman's shelter down the road doing repairs to the place. They rely on volunteers to keep that place afloat."

"Was there anything about Jason that maybe you thought he was keeping secrets from Audrey?"

"No, not a thing. He was a great husband to Audrey, always making sure she was happy and well looked after." She frowned. "Why are you asking me these questions?"

"We're looking into Jason's life, to understand what brought on last night's events."

"He's an engineer. What could he have done to have caused their home invasion and to be killed in front of Audrey like that?" Her face was pale from the horror she'd seen.

"That's what we're looking into."

Rebekah nodded. "I can't see anything that would bring on being killed like that. Poor Audrey. Jason was the love of her life."

"I need to ask you some questions about this morning. You called Audrey on her cell, but she didn't answer."

"Ten times. We had an early meeting with a client and she hadn't arrived."

"What time was this?"

"Seven. It's early, I know, but our clients are busy, and sometimes it's the only chance they get to see us. Sometimes it's late at night."

"What time did Audrey leave the office last night?" Callen tried to think about his neighbour's goings on the night before, but he'd been too preoccupied by his wife and children to take notice. That he would have to change.

"Nine. Another late night." Rebekah nibbled on her bottom lip. "We've been working twelve to fourteen hour days recently. Business is booming."

"When she didn't answer the door, I let myself in. I have the key for the side door."

"Which would have brought you into the main family room where you found Audrey and Jason?"

"Yes." A tear fell. She wiped it away, annoyed at herself. "At first I thought Audrey wasn't breathing. But I found a pulse, and she stirred. She was beaten up pretty badly."

"We know. We have her medical report. She's awake and speaking now, if you want to see her after we've finished here."

"I wish, I have to head back to the office to keep our business going while Audrey heals. I don't know how I'm going to do everything. Audrey was organised, and managed to do it all so seamlessly. I'm more of the worrier."

"Tell me about Jason. Where was he when you arrived?"

"I didn't see him at first. All I saw was Audrey and the mess. After I untied her and called 911, it was then I saw Jason. He was face down on the glass coffee table. Glass was broken around him, like they had dumped his body onto the table without a care."

They'd yet to receive the copy of the 911 call. Callen looked to Deeks and he immediately dialled his cell to have it sent to them. They needed to listen to it.

"Anything else, besides the mess and they way you found Jason and Audrey, was there anything that stood out to you as odd?"

"Yes." She knitted her brows together, thinking. "Jason's car was missing from the garage. Audrey's was the only one in there, and it had been searched through, the doors and boot were left open."

"Just one more thing. You mentioned Jason was facing down on top of the broken coffee table."

"Yes, that's right."

"Did you touch or move Jason at all?"

Rebekah nodded. "I needed to check to see if he was breathing. I moved him slightly to check for a pulse. It was then I noticed the wound." Her hand lifted to her temple and shuddered at the memory of seeing Jason's lifeless body, and the blood that pooled around him. "There was a pool of blood underneath him, and more blood like in a pattern of dots, further over to the side of the room."

"Thank you, Rebekah. If you think of anything else, please don't hesitate to call us." Sam stepped forward to give her his business card.

After she left, the three of them discussed what they had learned.

"We need the details on Jason's vehicle and put a bolo out for it." Callen stated, thinking hard on what his neighbour drove. He was losing his touch for details, and it annoyed him.

"Something doesn't add up over where Jason's body was found." Deeks sat down, leaning forward in the armchair. "Moyles said the body was lying next to the coffee table."

"Think about where the pool of blood was." Sam added.

Marty furrowed his brow in concentration. "Under the broken glass. Rebekah was telling us the truth. So whoever arrived first on the scene had moved the body over to the right? But why?"

"Good questions." Sam answered. "You need to tread carefully back at the precinct, Deeks. No one is to know you're looking into this. It's dangerous territory when dealing with a crooked cop."

Deeks looked seriously and nodded. "I know the drill. Watch your back, just because someone was a cop, didn't always mean they were a good cop."

Callen rose from the sofa. "We really need information on the joint operation in Georgia. Just as Callen was about to ring Eric, he appeared on the screen behind them.

"Guys!" Eric looked frazzled. "I have the information on the Federov case in Georgia. I've sent it through to your cells. I know the link to the Fabergé egg these men were after?"

Callen, Sam and Deeks, shifted to the wooden table and rested on it to listen to what Eric had to tell them.

"I think they're looking for this egg in particular, the Romanov Tercentenary Fabergé egg." Eric brought up the photo of the egg. It was gold with the portraits of the eighteen Romanov Tsars. "It was reported stolen from the Kremlin Armoury in Moscow last year. It's yet to be found."

"The same time our men were in Georgia on a joint mission with the CIA."

Do we have names of the CIA operatives and the other NCIS agents on this case?"

"We do. And so far, no one else has been kidnapped or killed."

"Let's keep it that way," Sam added. "Have you notified their superiors about the situation?"

"Director Vance has, and Assistant Director Mosley is dealing with her CIA contacts."

"Good. We need to interview them for information about the Federov operation, to see what connection it has to this egg."

"That's going to be difficult. No other agents or CIA officers involved are in the country. They're all in Europe somewhere."

"Together or separate?"

"Separate. And their superiors are refusing to pull them out to be interviewed."

"That's helpful." Deeks dripped with sarcasm. "Don't they care two men have lost their lives? We need to interview these men."

"That's why you're flying to Paris." Shay Mosley entered the boat shed, surprising the men. "I have your tickets and aliases you'll be travelling under." She looked at her watch. "You have thirty minutes until wheels up."

"I need to say goodbye to Nell and our kids."

"I'm sorry, Agent Callen. Time is of the essence. If we're to solve our case and prevent further men from dying, we need the information they've not divulged in their report."

Annoyance flickered in Callen's eyes. When he looked over to Deeks, he noted his dislike of Mosley. He kept his mouth sealed when around their boss unless it was important. He wasn't given any time to say goodbye to Kensi or Zander either.

"You're going to miss your flight if you don't get going." Shay watched the men shoot out of the boat shed with annoyance. She ran a tight ship and she didn't want these men to leave with an emotional farewell to their loved ones. It would affect them on their mission and she wanted them on point with their focus.

"It's good to know someone hasn't changed in the months I've left." Deeks mumbled from the back seat of the challenger. "I don't miss her at all. The rest of you, on the other hand, I miss like crazy."

A small smile hinted on Sam and Callen's lips.

"Did I hear right?" Sam jested. "Deeks misses us."

"I think you did hear right." Callen turned around and looked at Deeks in the rear. "We've missed you too."

Deeks' smile widened. "I knew it."

The smiles faded as their task ahead of them loomed. Sam pulled into the private airstrip and parked the challenger. It was going to be a long flight, but at least Mosley pulled strings like Hetty always did, and got them on a smooth streamline jet, that gave them comfort for their journey eastwards.

"You know, now that I'm heading to Europe with you guys, we have no idea who moved Jason's body this morning." Deeks realised.

"I'll give Eric a call and see if he can get any information for us. You called for the 911 call recording?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Good. Once that arrives, Eric can look through it and do some digging while we're away. I'll ask Eric to chase up Jason's missing vehicle too." Callen pulled out his cell and made the call. "The sooner those details are sorted, and we've located and questioned the rest of the joint task force, then we can get on with solving the crime."

"Do you get the feeling Mosley wanted us out of L.A. a little too quickly?" Sam mulled over how fast Mosley organised their flight out of town.

"A little too quickly." Callen agreed. "But I get where she's coming from, if the rest of the joint task force is at risk like Jason and the Lieutenant, then our window of getting that intel we need is narrow as it is."

"Let's hope we get there in time." Deeks shook his shaggy blond hair out of his eyes and strapped into his seat, looking out the window, ready for take off. He missed Kensi and Zander already, and hoped they were back home sooner than later.

Neither Sam or Callen commented in response to Deeks as they understood the likelihood or more masked men hunting down the other NCIS agents and CIA officers before they found them. Especially now they knew they were Russian and were after this Fabergé egg. They needed to be alert at all times incase they ran into these armed men themselves while on the case. Going to Europe increased the likelihood.


	7. Chapter 7

**A?N: Thanks for being patient with me, life is busy. I hope this chapter will tie you over until I can give you more. Thanks for reading and for the reviews.**

 **Chapter 7**

Callen was relieved he'd sent Nell and their kids over to Hetty's that morning. Now he could concentrate on the mission at hand. He trusted his family with the closest he had to a mother, and was glad she was alive to be there for them. Three years ago, they almost lost her, but it was thanks to Arkady Kolcheck, who donated his blood to keep her alive. He dialled is cell, now they were up in the air, it was safe for him to make his call, while he was flying over the U.S.

"Hey, how are you?" Nell Callen smiled at their happy children, who were eating their lunch before Hudson went for an afternoon nap. Alice and Tristan had missed a day of school and kindergarten, but after the previous night's event at their neighbour's place, she felt safer with them being with Hetty.

"I'm fine."

Nell narrowed her eyes at the comment. "Fine?"

"Okay. I should have expected you'd see through it. I'm not okay. I'm peeved at Mosley."

"What's she done now?" It was an almost daily complaint from Callen over Mosley's behaviour, but she didn't blame him, since she almost lost him, Sam, Kensi and Deeks, a few months back, on a rescue mission Mosley was obsessed over, in getting her son back from his father. A Mexican standoff south of the border, with Kensi pretending to give the son horse riding lessons. A rocket was fired on their vehicle after they'd passed the boy, Derrek, over to their Assistant Director, who'd flown the coup and almost cost the team their lives. She shook the memory from her focus and drew in a deep breath.

"She's sent us to Europe, without time to say goodbye." She noted his grumblings in the tone he used.

She sighed. "How long will you be away for?"

"I don't know. We have a couple of NCIS agents and CIA officers to track down and interview for our case." He neglected to tell her it was connected to their neighbours incident the night before, but he suspected Hetty was already on the ball on that one, and Nell would know herself by now.

"Stay safe. We miss you."

"You stay with Hetty while we're gone."

"We will. Love you."

"Love you too. Give Alice, Trist and Huddy big hugs from me."

"I will."

Nell disconnected the call and sat in the armchair closest to her. Hetty looked over with worry in her eyes.

"What's wrong my dear?" Hetty walked over to her and remained quiet with their conversation, keeping all concerns far from the children.

"Mosley's sent them to Europe without giving G time to say goodbye to us."

Hetty pressed her lips together while she thought about the situation. "You know what the job entails. Some times we have weeks to plan, some a day, other days an hour."

"I know. I still don't like the fact that when we said goodbye to him this morning, we expected to see him later today. How am I going to explain to them that Daddy's gone away for who knows how long?"

"I think I may have an idea." Hetty walked over to her study and found what she was looking for. She pulled the globe of the world out and took it to the dining table.

"Who knows where the United States of America is on here?"

Alice's eyes sparkled and her arm rose high in the air. "Me! Me!"

Hetty and Nell smiled at Alice's enthusiasm.

Alice held the globe in her hands and slowly turned it around until the U.S. came into view. She had to kneel on the chair to see over the globe, since it was a big one. "Here is the United States of America." Her pointer finger placed onto the country of where her mother and youngest brother was born. "This is where Mommy and Hudson were born."

"That's right."

"And this is Canada, where Tristan and I were born." Her eyes sparkled in delight, as she pointed to Vancouver Island, right at the bottom, on Victoria. "Can we go back again, please?"

"Not today." Nell walked over and wiped Hudson's face as he sat in the high chair, nibbling on a carrot.

"Oh!" Alice's face flattened and she sat back down.

Hetty moved in beside her and smiled warmly over to her. "Do you know where England is?"

Alice tilted her head and thought over it. "Is it near Romania, where Daddy was born? Or Russia, where Papa was born?"

"You are a clever girl. Yes, it is." Hetty pulled her glasses on the bridge of her nose and peered onto the globe. "Here is England. The capital city is London."

"That's where the queen lives." Alice stated, matter of factly.

"Yes, one of many queens. Queen Elizabeth lives here. In Denmark, there is another queen, Queen Margrethe. Then there are kings in Belgium, Netherlands, Sweden, Spain, and Norway. There's a duke ruling Luxembourg, and Princes running Monaco and Liechtenstein." Hetty's ageing fingers pointed to all the countries in Europe as she named them all. "There are kings and other rulers all around the world, but there are a lot just in this area, which is called Europe."

"What's Europe?"

"It's a continent. We live in North America, which is a continent. Canada and the United States of America make up the continent. Like Africa is a continent, but it's made up of lots of different countries." Hetty showed her Africa to explain it to her.

Alice nodded, taking it all in. "Can we go to Europe and Africa?" She asked, not knowing what they were like.

"Actually, Nell interrupted Hetty and Alice's conversation. "Daddy's on a plane right now with Uncle Sam and Uncle Marty, on their way to Europe."

"They've gone without us?" A tear fell and Hetty dabbed her cheek with a lace handkerchief.

"Perhaps next time. Daddy, Uncle Sam and Uncle Marty, have lots of work to do while they are there, and they would have no time to spend it with us." Hetty responded.

"Oh!" She slipped from the chair and wandered out into the garden.

"Oh dear. I thought this might help." Hetty regretted her idea now, looking out the window to where Alice gently touched her roses.

"I'll go and talk with her." Nell swiftly chased after her daughter and slowed down as she walked up beside her.

"It's a beautiful rose." Nell bent down and took a sniff of the yellow rose.

"This one's my favourite."

"It's a good choice." Nell smiled softly over to her. "Daddy didn't want to go without us, Sweetheart. You know that, don't you?"

Alice nodded.

"He called me just before and asked me to give you a big hug from him. Do you want it now?"

Alice wrapped her arms around her mother and held on tight. "Don't leave us too, Mommy."

"I'm not going anywhere, Alice. Unless it's with you and your brothers."

"Can we stay here while Daddy's gone?"

"Of course we can." Nell wasn't keen to return home anyway, so it was a good thing they remained where they were. "I need to put Hudson down for his nap. I'll be back soon."

"I'll come with you." She became slightly brighter, but she was close to her father, and missed him when he wasn't around. She'd been extremely quiet when Callen and the team were missing a few months back. They needed Callen, Sam and Deeks, to return quickly, else the children would fret again.

Alice tugged on her mother's arm. "Daddy's not going to go missing again is he?" She looked worried as she asked the question.

"Daddy will be home very soon." She kissed her on the temple and swooped Hudson out of his high chair and cradled him in her arms as she swept him off up the stairs to the children's bedroom.

Shay Mosley looked at the intel Eric had shown her, and she shook her head. "This can't be?"

"I'm afraid so." Eric looked worried as he had to pass on the latest information.

"But no one knew where they were."

"Either he's been burned, or we have another mole situation." Eric pressed his glasses closer to his face.

"I need to make a call." Shay exited the Operations room and headed for her office. The bull pen below was almost empty, except for the remaining agent. Kensi Deeks was busy chasing leads on the missing vehicle that belonged to Jason Harper, unaware of the latest information.

"Shay, what can I do for you?" Henrietta Lange was short with her, they'd fallen out over the Mexico incident months ago, and the strain of worrying for her people became too great for her health. After the torture she'd endured in Vietnam, she'd found it difficult to remain calm during stressful situations. Leon Vance had pulled his punch card, and forced her into retirement.

"Is the Campbell family safe with you?"

"Yes, they are. What is going on?"

"We have a situation. We're not clear on the details, and if it pertains to the case I have the team working on, but Agent Callen's identity has been burned. Eric's found details to former KGB hunting for him and his father."

"Oh, dear." Hetty was thankful Nell was upstairs with Hudson, and Alice was drawing on the other side of the lower floor to where she was right then. "Then it is a good thing they are with me."

"Yes. You need to keep them safe, but away from L.A. I will arrange for a vehicle to take the five of you somewhere safe."

"No need. But thank you, Shay. I have people I can make arrangements with. If you have a mole situation again, then it's best I take them somewhere where you don't know."

"I need you to take Agent Deeks and her son with you. I'll send her over to you immediately."

"That's not necessary. I will call her and make arrangements for her and her son." Hetty disconnected her cell, and punched in a new number.

"Hetty." Kensi smiled at the older woman's voice. "How are you enjoying the Campbell's visit?"

"I wish it was under calmer circumstances. There's been a development, Assistant Director, Mosley, has asked that I take them out of L.A. for a while. She's also requested for you and Zander to accompany us."

Kensi narrowed her eyes and turned her head to peer up at Mosley's office. "She never mentioned anything to me."

Hetty noted the annoyance in Kensi's voice. "I asked to speak with you myself, dear. Now, this is where I will meet you and young Zander in thirty minutes."

Kensi nodded, she knew the location and was curious to know where Hetty was taking them all to. "What about Kamran?"

"I will contact young Mr Hanna, and ask him to relocate his sister to Coronado, until the situation is resolved."

"Thanks, Hetty." Kensi picked up her jacket and bag, closing her laptop down and exited the office of Special Projects. Once again, she was on her way to a secret location, and wished she had Marty with her. This time, it would be the three women, with Michelle gone, her presence would be greatly missed.

Callen looked at is cell and noted Eric calling him. "Eric, do you have updates for us?" The line was crackly. "Eric?"

"Switch over to the laptop." Eric told him.

Callen pulled out the laptop and made the connection to Eric in OPs. "That's better."

"Callen. You can't go to Europe." Eric looked anxious.

"Is it my family?"

"You've been burned. Hetty's taking them somewhere safe away from L.A. Kensi and Zander are going with them, and Aidan's picking Kamran up and keeping her safe at Coronado with him until this is resolved."

"What does Mosley say about this?"

"She's in agreement with us. You need to ask the pilot to make a stop in D.C. to drop you off and to pick Gibbs up."

Callen closed his eyes for a moment. "What have you found, Eric?"

"Not sure if this is related to the case, but we've had word through that there are former KGB looking for you and your father."

"What name are they looking for?"

"G. Callen and Nikita Reznikov."

"An old name for my father." Callen responded. "Whoever this is, they don't know that the Russians already have my father in custody. This might be a spoof. Dig deeper. Tell Gibbs to contact Hetty. I need him to protect our families, and I'm still on this case."

"But Callen, Mosley said—"

"Callen?"

Callen had disconnected the call with Eric, and was fuming over a game someone was playing with him and his father.

Sam and Deeks looked at him worriedly. "You can't go, G." Sam stated with conviction.

"I have to go. Whoever is playing this game, doesn't know Russia already have my dad. They have no cards left to play with me on. I'm going."

"Mosley's not going to like you going against orders." Deeks stated, knowing his own fate of speaking out against the Assistant Director.

"Too late. She's already sent me on this trip. If she's going to push us out of L.A. like she did, then she has to face the facts of her rash decision." Callen missed Owen Granger, the pang of grief for the older man hit him strongly. He'd gone to great lengths to help protect his and Sam's family when they were at threat, three years earlier. Why did the good men have to die too early? He missed him more in situations like now, because Mosley didn't play nice, and she was too rash in her decisions. Too quick, that almost got them killed three months earlier. He gritted his teeth when he saw Mosley's id on his cell. He ignored it and rested his head back on the leather seat.

He felt triumphant for a moment, until he felt the jet they were on, lower. He looked out below and spied the skyline of Washington D.C. Mosley was overruling his decision and must have contacted the pilots directly. He picked up the cabin phone and called the pilots in the pit.

"This is Agent Callen. Why are we lowering?"

"I'm sorry, Agent Callen. Assistant Director Mosley has ordered us to stop in D.C."

"We can pick up Agent Gibbs, but I'm staying on board."

"We hear you loud and clear, Agent Callen."

Callen heaved out a heavy breath. "See how you like this, Mosley."

Marty Deeks looked over to his friend and colleague with concern, but also with admiration over his courage to stand up for what he believed in. They all had a job to do, and having an extra man on board will help them, especially with Kensi out of action for a while.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Shane Moyles looked over to Lieutenant Bate's office and wondered if he should enter and speak with his boss on why Deeks was given the honour of working with the NCIS Agents and he was pushed aside on the case. Something didn't settle well within him, and his gut instinct told him that Bates was deliberately keeping him in the dark on many things, especially that of his colleague, Detective Marty Deeks. _Well, no one is going to get answers sitting here,_ he mused. He pulled himself from his chair and walked the distance of fifteen feet. His hand rose and knocked on the doorframe. Roger Bates lifted his head expectantly to his visitor.

"What is it, Moyles? You have your new case details." Bate dropped the pen in his hand and rested back into his leather office chair, and waited.

"I'm wondering why Deeks gets to hand my case over to the NCIS Agents when it was my case?"

Bates had expected this question and Moyles had every right to ask for an explanation, but he was restricted on what to tell him. He couldn't divulge to him what Deeks had been working on over the past eleven years, it was a need to know basis. And Moyles up to this point, hadn't been within the circle of needing to know.

"Let's just say that Deeks knows these guys and it's easier for them to communicate." Bates picked his pen back up and went to continue signing off on the paperwork his personal assistant had given him.

"How does Deeks know these guys? One of them lives next door to the crime scene, and is a witness, or possible suspect in the case."

Bates sighed and stopped what he was doing, a slight irritation grated on the nerves on the back of his neck. He rubbed his hand over the area and tried his best to remain calm.

"You need to stop suspecting everyone you meet to be a suspect. I know these agents, you can't get any more honourable than them. Trust me."

"How can I trust you, Sir, when there are secrets being kept around here? Like where Deeks has been working for the past ten or so years? Sometimes he's here working on a case, other times he's somewhere unknown. But three months ago, he returned with bruises and scrapes that tell you he's been in a pretty bad fight, and you give him the lead on the cold cases. You don't give just anyone the lead on the cold cases."

"No, I don't. I give it to the person who takes great attention to detail. And Deeks gives great attention to detail. End of story. I'm busy, Moyles, and I know you are too."

Moyles grumbled as he walked back to his desk. His mood was stormy with annoyance. Who was Deeks close to in the precinct? His eyes darted around his floor and wondered. Nope. Not one person he could think of on his floor. His mind went wondering further and he remembered Detective Jess Traynor. He heard a rumour that something had been going on between them before she was killed when her vehicle exploded. Someone in their precinct burned them from an undercover stint. Moyles narrowed his eyes and a smile hinted on his lips. Maybe he'd figured something out. Deeks was well known for going deep undercover, more so as an homeless man, if he remembered correctly. What if his skills were used for more than for LAPD? It would explain a lot of things, like how Deeks knew these agents.

Kensi pulled up outside her mother's house and took a quick couple of breaths. "Nothing to worry about. Just a precaution." She told herself before she stepped out of the silver SUV.

The front door opened and her mother smiled with a look of surprise on her face. "Kensi. What are you doing here so early?"

Kensi braved a smile for her mother. "Hi. I've been given the rest of the day off. I thought I would come over and pick Zander up earlier." Her eyes scanned the lower floor for her son.

"He's upstairs asleep. Have a cup of tea while you wait."

"I'm sorry, Mom. But I can't wait. I'll have to take him with me now." She hid her anxiety over the situation from her mother. "I'm meeting up with a friend, you remember Thea, don't you?"

Julia furrowed her brow. "What's going on, Sweetheart?"

Kensi remembered to breathe before she answered. "I don't want you to worry about us, Mom. But Zander and I have to leave town for a few days."

"Where's Martin?" The worry for her daughter and her family replaced the smile that had been on her face since opening the door. She was well aware of the danger her daughter's job brought her and their team over the years.

"He's teamed up with Callen and Sam. They're headed overseas for a case. Until they return, we have to leave town."

Julia nodded. "Then I am coming with you." She pulled out a small suitcase in the cupboard under the stairs and took it with her upstairs.

"Mom!" Kensi followed her mother. "You'll be fine here."

"I'm coming whether you like it or not. You're pregnant and have an active two year old. You have your husband away—you need me." She collected the toiletries from the bathroom, and some casual clothes from her wardrobe and chest of drawers.

Kensi breathed out slowly. Perhaps her mother was right. Her life was crazy with a young child, being tired from her pregnancy, and working full time. "We need to meet at a location in fifteen minutes." She entered the spare bedroom and scooped her son up into her arms, throwing his bag of items over her shoulder. He remained in his sleeping form while she collected whatever she had there with them. She didn't have the time to go home to collect any more clothes, food or toys for her son, but she trusted Hetty to ensure they had what they needed, wherever they were heading.

Kensi pulled up outside the well hidden large red brick home and wondered if this was a new addition of Hetty's collection of houses. She'd sold a few when she vanished the previous year, and wondered if she bought any new ones, since the old ones had been placed on the dark web to the highest bidder.

"Where are we?" Julia looked in wonder at the beautiful home and lush garden, that hid them from the neighbours and the road. The driveway wound through the forest of birch trees and brought them out into a hidden sanctuary. There were no other words for it.

"I don't know." Kensi replied, as she pulled up outside the house.

Hetty appeared from the garage and waved over to them. Kensi drove the SUV into the garage and spied a larger people carrier already filled with Nell and her children.

"My mom insisted on coming with us." Kensi apologised to Hetty for the additional person.

Hetty smiled over to Julia Feldman. "Your mother is always welcomed, my dear." Hetty helped them with their bags. "Mrs Feldman."

"Hello, Miss Lange."

"Please, call me Hetty."

"Julia."

Hetty smiled at the older version of her former agent. "We better leave, we have a plane to catch."

At the mention of a plane, Tristan jumped in his seat with excitement. "We're going on a plane," he called out. Zander stirred from his sleep from the noise, with a look of bewilderment on his face at the foreign location, and for seeing his cousins.

Alice giggled at her brother. "Yippee!" She hoped they were going somewhere fun, like their cabin on Moresby Island.

"Momma!" Zander lifted his arms to his mom for a hug.

"Hey, Zand. Did you have a good sleep?" She hugged him closely, taking in his warm body wrapped in her arms. It felt good to be hugged by her child like this, and she missed Deeks more at that moment. He should be there with them, but instead, Marty was on a plane heading for Europe. She hoped their trip was just a standard run of the mill asking questions to help solve the case of two dead NCIS agents. She shuddered at the thought of the men lost. They lost too many in their line of work and it never sat well with her, whether she knew them or not.

"Where's Dadda?"

"Daddy's working. We're going on a trip with Grandma, Aunt Hetty, and your cousins."

Zander's eyes scanned for his best friend. His arm reached out for Hudson. "Huddy."

"Yes, you can sit next to Huddy." Kensi smiled at the two two year old boys who looked more like brothers than Hudson did with his own siblings. The two boys played well together and she looked forward to watching them grow up and remaining close, like Sam, Callen and Deeks were.

"We better keep moving." Hetty turned to Kensi. "Mrs Deeks, if you wouldn't mind driving for us, please?"

Kensi looked at the size of the driving seat and understood immediately Hetty's predicament. Hetty's feet would struggle to reach the peddles in this vehicle. It explained why she drove her small sports car, which was compact and a perfect fit for her. "Sure, Hetty."

Kensi drove following Hetty's instructions, and she noted the many turns they took before they arrived at a private airstrip. It was to the north east of the city, far from any Russians who may be looking for them. The children were bursting from excitement and it distracted the women from their worries for a while. Once they were all seated and clipped into their seat belts, Hetty made the call through to the pilot and he started the engine. It didn't take them long to taxi out to the runway and speed up to take off up into the air. Kensi breathed out slowly as the plane lifted higher, taking them further away from the worries of Los Angeles.

They headed north west, and she wondered where they were heading. Definitely not Vancouver or Moresby Islands by their direction. She closed her eyes for a moment and focused on the map of North America in her memory. Were they staying within the realms of the United States, or were they heading for Canada? She decided that since they didn't have their passports with them, they were staying within the borders. Probably best at this time, since there were too many variables that could destroy their safety at present.

The land below was a rich emerald green, such a contrast to the barren Nevada Desert. Rocky mountains surrounded a sapphire blue lake and valley, and Kensi noted the plane was descending. It was beautiful below and she wondered about the place and people below, and would they remain safe where they were heading? _Of course they would be safe,_ she scolded herself. _Why else would Hetty bring them here if it wasn't?_

Alice, Tristan, Hudson and Zander became excited as the jet lowered. "Where are we landing, Grandma?" Alice inquired.

A small smile spread across Hetty's aged face. "A lake in a valley surrounded by mountains." Was all she answered to the young girl.

"A lake? Are we back at Moresby Island?"

Hetty shook her head. "No, Alice. We're still in the United States."

"Oh!" She looked back out her window at the passing scene as they lowered and landed in Kalispell, as small town near to Flathead Lake. The name didn't do the lake justice, the area was was beautiful, and the lake, well, one only had to take a look at the clearest waters you'd ever seen and know you'd found paradise. Hetty smiled at Nell and helped her with the children as they descended the stairs. Flying in a jet was easier for her with less steps than commercial areoplanes, and less distance to walk to their next mode of transport that awaited them on the tarmac.

Once the two families were buckled in, Hetty directed Kensi to their destination. There would be no satellite navigation system to recored their movements, especially one that could trace them from the airport to their accommodation.

Kensi and Nell quickly looked at each other as they pulled up beside a lake house. The view caught their breaths, clear crystal waters with snow capped mountains on the eastern side of the lake. It was mid spring, and the snow had yet to melt. The house was a two storey wooden house painted a soft olive green. A verandah enveloped around three quarters of the house, with cane chairs set out to enjoy the view.

"Wow!" Alice exclaimed, taking in the scenery before her. The children looked wide eyed in wonder, and the vehicle sat in the driveway in silence for a few moments.

"This place should do us for the time being." Hetty exclaimed. "However," her eyes locked on each of the children, "no going near the lake without an adult."

Four heads nodded, their eyes wide and innocent as they agreed to the terms Hetty put forward. A smile warm with love drifted over her ageing features. "Goodie." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Let's go and have some fun."

The group became loud again as the excitement of their mini escape to a lake burst through. Children ran inside and outside, looking, exploring in and around the house. Nell and Kensi stood on watch as their children expelled the excess energy from being cooped up in transport for the past few hours.

"There's something about getting out of the city." Kensi turned and smiled at her friend of ten years. "Recharges your batteries, and makes you feel good in here." She pointed to her heart.

"I agree. When we lived on Vancouver Island, we were relaxed and happy, with the exception of when we were hunted. Definitely healthier. I keep thinking, did we make the right decision to move back to L.A.?"

"If you hadn't returned, I believe the rest of us would have joined you in Victoria. The scenery up there was breathtaking, like here." Kensi's eyes shifted back to her son, Zander and Hudson were collecting sticks to build something. Kensi was curious to know what they'd make, but she wondered if the boys had thought that far ahead just yet. For now, they were content in collecting the sticks.

"And we would have loved to have you all near by. That was the problem being so far away from everyone we knew, we missed you all too much."

"I'm thankful to have you back in our lives. But I agree, it's time we all had a life change, a new scenery, like this one." Her smile widened and Kensi was blossoming in her pregnancy. "This place makes you forget all of your worries."

"I agree." Nell watched Alice and Tristan climb a tree near the house. Pine trees blanketed the landscape along this part of the lake, with an opening to capture the lake view. The water's edge was sixty-five feet away, and a small jetty jutted off from the grassy slopes over the water. A couple of small wooden boats with oars were tied up to the jetty. She was tempted to row herself out onto the lake, but for now, she was pleased to be standing and not sitting down. She understood her children's need to run around. "I might take a walk down to the jetty. Are you interested?"

"Sure. That sounds perfect after being cooped up for so long." It didn't take long before their children realised where their mothers were heading, and they darted quickly down to the jetty to join them.

Hetty spied out through the glass door at the activity of her family. The children would be happy being out in the fresh open air, and she also knew it would dispel the worry she'd seen on Nell and Kensi's faces earlier. A clean break up here was what they all needed. She hoped the men would return without a hitch soon. Else, she would send a team of agents she trusted to bring them home safely. She never expected to be so busy in her retirement. Forced retirement, she remembered bitterly. She pressed her lips together before turning around and pour a cup of tea for her guest, who's company would distract her from thinking and worrying too much. That was the one thing Leon Vance didn't realise—it didn't matter if she was working or retired, she still worried about her people, until they were safe back in the fold and returned to their families.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"What!" Callen frowned as Gibbs stared at him.

"You're still as stubborn as you ever were. I thought Thea had snapped that out of you." Gibbs' pale blue eyes stared back at the vibrant blue of a summer sky of Grisha Callen's.

"I'm not being stubborn. I'm doing my job."

"You were supposed to stop at D.C. Get off the plane and head home. It's not safe for you to continue onto Europe."

"It wasn't safe at home. I told you what happened."

Gibbs shuffled himself more comfortably into the streamline jet's leather chair and mulled over all Callen had told him earlier that day. He was supposed to have headed to Los Angeles and take Thea and the children to Moresby Island, protect them and the Deeks, while they worked the case, and solved any mole problems NCIS might have. He'd been fine with Callen going to Europe, more than fine with it, until the chatter that someone was after Callen and his father came through on the CIA's intelligence. Instead, Shay Mosley told him Hetty was sorting out the families protection, and they needed him on board this flight to Europe, in lieu of Callen.

"Mosley doesn't play nice to those who go against her orders, or question her authority." Gibbs' eyes shifted to another set of blue eyes that sparkled in the cabin light. Blue topaz eyes met his and stared him out. Deeks knew the remark was about his questioning to Mosley when it came to the Mexico case to rescue her son.

"Mosley reacts too quickly before she thinks things through. She shoved us out of L.A. without much thought, rushed us out, as a matter of fact." Callen called in his defence. "We hadn't even left U.S. airspace, and she's changed her mind, ordering me to get off at D.C. No, Gibbs! We can't chop and change things to someone who is behaving like she has split personalities. We're doing our job with or without Mosley's support. She ordered us to Europe to solve the case, she can't expect us to jump ship because she'd changed her mind."

Gibbs hummed deep in his throat, he understood Callen's frustrations. He'd been there before with Sarah Porter. "Okay! I will support you on this. But if this intelligence turns out to be true, you do as I tell you, else I will be the one who will face Thea if anything happens to you."

"It's old news. Did Mosley tell you what the intelligence said?"

"Not exactly!"

"That there are former KGB looking for me and my father. But they're looking for an old name for my dad. They're looking for Nikita, not his real name. Nor do they know that the Russian Government already have him locked away. This rumour has nothing to do with our case, and I believe it's a spoof. I've told Eric to dig deeper, to find out what is really going on."

"I've told him he shouldn't be going." Sam butted into their conversation.

"As I suspected." Gibbs nodded his appreciation to Sam who always had Callen's back. "What name are you travelling under?"

"Matthew James." Callen showed Gibbs his alias. "I.T. Consultant for Yursant Enterprise."

Gibbs mulled over the information. "I suppose that will do. As long as you're not travelling under the Callen family name, you should be safe working this case. Now bring me up to speed on the case."

"Two NCIS agents who were unknown to us even being NCIS agents, worked with the CIA and a couple other agents on a case dealing with the Federov family in Georgia. During the operation, a Fabergé egg went missing from Russia. From interviewing the wife of one of them, our neighbour, actually, she thought they were after something French."

"Easy to do." Gibbs looked at the file Callen handed over to him. "So this is an in and out ask questions about the op and fly home?"

"Technically, yes, a simple case. But we have an unknown number of Russian operatives in Los Angeles who have killed two of our people, after they've been interrogated and tortured for information. From what the wife told Kensi, she had no idea her husband was working for NCIS, let along about a Russian egg. The clock is ticking, we need to interview these agents from NCIS and the CIA operatives before anymore of them are executed. They could be on their way to Europe and make their way to each of the men we're looking for, before we even land."

"And neither NCIS or the CIA were willing to remove any of their people from current operations to solve this case or to even protect them from these Russian operatives?"

"Correct." Deeks replied. "That's the image of the Fabergé egg that went missing last year, the one we suspect these Russian operatives are after."

"There is a way to draw them out." Callen began to suggest. "Send out a rumour that we have the Febergé egg, and deal with them."

"That's too dangerous, Callen. There are only four of us, we don't know how many we are facing? Nor do we have the Fabergé egg in question."

"I'm with Gibbs on this," Sam looked intently to his partner. "G. Leave it to the task at hand. Question these agents, and then return home. Deeks still has some suspects back at the precinct to question about why your neighbour's body was moved from where the wife's business partner saw him, when she first arrived and made the 911 call."

"But we need to dispel the threat on our families." Callen caught his breath, his heart pounded heavily inside his chest. "What if they were meant to enter our house last night instead of our neighbours, of had come into ours instead by mistake?" The murder of his neighbour had hit too close to home for him.

"That's too many what ifs, G." Gibbs looked back at the intel in the file he held. "I suggest we interview the two last NCIS agents involved before we start digging into the CIA. If this only involved the NCIS agents, we'll solve this quickly. But if the CIA operatives were behind this, exposed the NCIS agents to protect themselves, this could get ugly."

"You know what they're like, Gibbs. They never play nice. And they've always left it to us to clean up their mess." Callen tensed his jaw, his frustration over this case as well as his worry, rushed through him. "But when I do find out who was responsible, they'd wish they'd never been born."

"I don't like how this case is looking either." Sam told his partner. "Neither of us do. But we do this by the book."

"Or else, Mosley will eat us for breakfast when we return." Deeks added. He'd already faced the wrath of Shay Mosley, he wasn't keen to face it again.

"Or you better start looking for a new job." Gibbs added, with a seriousness the men understood.

"By the book." Callen breathed out.

Sam squeezed his shoulder. "Good man."

"HE DID WHAT?" Shay Mosley fumed at the insubordination Callen was showing her by staying on the jet.

Eric flinched at Mosley's shouting. "He hung up on me. I've received reports that Agents Gibbs climbed on board the jet, but Callen didn't get off."

Mosley paced the Ops centre. Her hands clenched by her side, her temperature rising. "Call him again." She turned and glared at Eric.

Eric swivelled around his chair and tried to call Callen again. He expected nothing, so he was surprised when Callen connected on the laptop on the other end. "Callen."

"What have you found, Eric?"

Eric gulped. "Well, I haven't found anything yet."

"Dig deeper. The intel is old and nothing to do with this case."

"AGENT CALLEN." The harsh tones of Shay Mosley's voice made Sam and Deeks flinch, but Callen sat still, hiding his reaction to Mosley.

"Yes, Assistant Director?" He was annoyed Eric had called him when Mosley was around, but then again, it wasn't Eric's fault. It was evident she'd pushed him to call him, making him think it was safe to answer.

"Why are you still on the jet and not back at D.C.?"

"You sent me on a case, I have a job to do, remember?"

"Not at the risk of your life." She huffed out.

"Oh, so our lives matter to you now?" He wasn't happy over what had happened three months earlier in Mexico, and now she acted as if their lives mattered.

"OF COURSE YOUR LIVES MATTER!"

Deeks shrunk back into his seat, wishing he had his earphones to block out Mosley's shouting.

"Good. We have Agent Gibbs with us, and he will help us work the case. We'll let you know when we have something about the missing Fabergé egg."

"Agent Callen." Mosley was at boiling point with her agent. She tried a couple of deep breaths to calm herself down.

"Yes, Assistant Director?" Callen waited.

Oh he was good, she mused. Patient as ever, like the grey haired man next to him. "You keep me posted on all developments. If there are any signs of the Russian mercenaries, you get out and come home. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Assistant Director." Callen disconnected the call and blew out a heavy breath.

"I'm not sure of who I'm more scared of, Mosley or Hetty."

Gibbs and Sam chuckled.

"Mosley." Deeks answered for him. "Definitely Mosley. With Hetty, you always knew you mattered. I can't understand Mosley's motives or work out her concern, if she has any for her agents."

"Deeks is right there," Sam's dimple deepened in his cheek as he gave the detective a warm smile.

Callen nodded. "Yeah, you're right. But they're both good at keeping things from you, and that I have never liked."

"And once again, your trust issues resurface." Gibbs shook his head. "I though Hetty had sorted that out a long time ago."

"She had, until we lost Granger and Mosley arrived on the scene. Man I miss him."

"He was a good man." Gibbs thought grimly over the man who had lost his life to the notorious agent orange. "Just remember, none of you trusted Granger when he first arrived in L.A. Give her a break, and stop breaking her command."

"Maybe, one day we might." Deeks began. "When she stops playing her own game, and plays as part of our team and lets us in. If she'd played nice in the first place, things would be different."

"I'm with Deeks on this one." Callen added. "She's a hard one to crack. It's like she has this huge chip on her shoulders, or something to prove to someone. when she starts to play as part of the team, then the rest of us will tow the line."

"I'll remember to send her the memo with regards to your requests when I return to D.C."

"This isn't funny, Gibbs." Callen snapped back.

"Calm down, Grisha." Gibbs eased a smile over to him. "I'm well aware how she risked your lives in Mexico and afterwards, when you were being hunted. I'm not trying to be funny. I'm only trying to help your plight in dealing with her. I think you should return to Moresby Island after this case. You're rattled."

"For good reason too." Callen gritted his teeth.

"That may be, but you cannot afford to be like this in Paris or any of the other destinations we need to go to. Think of Thea and the kids."

The mention of his wife and kids calmed him a bit. "I am."

"Good. Because I'm not returning and looking into their eyes to tell them we lost you on our watch."

"I'll behave." He felt like the teenage boy he once was, stealing cars and food to survive, being scolded by the cop who'd arrested him. If it wasn't for Hetty, he would have ended up in jail and probably be dead by now. He had so much more to live for now. They deserved to have him home safe and sound.

Satisfied he'd gotten through to Callen, Gibbs chattered over the way forward on this case before they landed in Paris.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

 _Los Angeles_

Fear for her team leader clenched her insides. Or perhaps it was guilt for sending him to Mexico—the mission that had almost killed him. Their working relationship had been on tender hooks from the moment she arrived at OSP, but even more so since Mexico. Shay Mosley dialled her phone, tapping a pen against the pad on her desk. She wouldn't lose another agent. Losing Special Agent Harley Hidoko like she had, had ripped her her heart into pieces. She was young, too young to have died like she had. She should never have sent her alone. No! She would do what it took to protect Agent Callen, no matter what consequences it resulted between them on his return. She needed to protect her people, show them they mattered.

"Paul. I need a favour."

Paul Reid had known Shay Mosley since their time at FLETC in Georgia and at the James J. Rowley Training Center in Washington D.C. They had worked together over the years in the Secret Service, and they met up when they were in the same city, since he moved across to the FBI, ten years prior. They'd not seen each other for the past five years with the job getting in the way, keeping them busy in different cities. They remained in contact via phone or email these days.

"Mosley. It's been a while."

"Too long. I'm busy dealing with the Pacific region."

"What's that favour?"

"I've heard some chatter, some former KGB officers are after one of their own. A Major Nikita Reznikov, and another man, G. Callen."

"Isn't Callen NCIS these days?" Paul knitted his brow, he looked at his laptop puzzled.

"He is. He's the reason I'm calling. He's one of my agents, and I need to know everything about this chatter. Is it credible or a spoof, like he's thinking it is. And who these men are."

"The intel hasn't crossed my desk yet. I'll look into it."

"Thanks, Paul."

"Shay?"

"Yes?"

"Are you okay? I heard about what happened in Mexico."

Shay closed her eyes and heaved out a breath. "I have my son back, and most of my agents."

"Harley was a good agent." Paul had met her on one occasion when she was new out of FLETC. "She would have done anything for you."

"Yes she would." It didn't release the guilt she carried with her.

"I'll look into this intel, see what I can find for you about your agent. You look after yourself, Shay."

"Thanks, Paul. I appreciate it." She disconnected the call and threw the pen across the room. It hit the glass wall and dropped onto the floor. It laid there as a reminder of her anger. The rage that bubbled under the surface but doesn't quite explode. There were days she wished it did explode. Why didn't she lose it and show them all what a complete failure she was in this role? Why couldn't she cry for Harley, who had sacrificed her life for her son?

She'd been selfish, she knew that. But what mother wouldn't do what it took to rescue her son? Derek needed her, needed to be rescued from the hands of his father, who had abducted him and taken him out of the country. He was just a kid, and she did what she could to bring him home, safe. But at what costs? Retired Navy Admiral Hollace Kilbride, had made certain she understood the cost.

She promised herself she wouldn't do it like that again. Risk her agents' lives like she had for her son. Derek was safe with her family while she worked endlessly for her government. Which is why by sending Callen to Europe now that this chatter had reached her, it had her on tender hooks. She pushed her desk chair back from the desk and stormed out of her office. She needed some fresh sea air, and a new perspective on this case.

 _Paris, France_

Sam was watching Callen closely as they arrived in Paris. He had saved his life once again, cutting a hole into his lungs to release blood so he could breathe. The young Mexican boy had fled to get them help, much to his relief. After losing his wife, he told his partner, he couldn't lose him too. He was his brother and meant so much more to him than he could express. At times they would bicker, sometimes it was easier to bicker. But when the job became tough, when their lives were at risk, it was then he made certain Callen knew just how much he meant to him.

His Navy SEAL days stayed with him after he moved to NCIS—never leave a man behind. That night in the shed when they thought that was it, that neither of them would make it out of Mexico alive, haunted him at night, and even now, he awoke with a sweat. He knew it troubled his partner, who focused all his attention into Thea and the children when he wasn't on the clock. But when Callen didn't think anyone was watching, he noted the fear in his eyes. That fear that he would die and never see his wife and children again. He understood that fear, he too had been through that, and thought his children would become orphans. At least now Aidan was old enough to take care of Kamran if it came to it.

He sucked in a heavy breath and scanned the surroundings. Their accommodation was a two bedroom apartment Mosley had acquired for them in a good area of the city, not too close to the river or the hot tourist spots. Better for them to be there than in a hotel, where there were too many eyes watching them. The Parisian building was white with a grey roof, like many of the architecture around them. It was old, much older than Los Angeles, but just as busy and crazy on the roads. They'd parked their vehicle out front in the street, bumper to bumper of the next car. This was something foreign for him, and he was thankful it wasn't his vehicle he'd driven. They climbed the stairs to the second floor. Callen unlocked the door and pushed it forward, his eyes narrowed as he scanned the area in front of him.

"Clear." Callen quietly breathed out.

Sam pulled in behind him, his hand rested on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Callen turned, his eyes widened at the seriousness in his partner's eyes. "I'm good."

Gibbs and Deeks shifted in behind them, their eyes locked onto Sam and Callen's, knowing after Mexico, any mission, no matter how trivial it seemed, caused the men to be on edge. Deeks had been out of it for most of the time after their vehicle had been fired upon with a rocket. They hoped they never met with such a violent welcoming in Paris. Here, the people were more civilised than the drug cartels south of the border to California.

Deeks scratched his scar from where he suffered in the event and cleared his throat. "Cozy."

"It will do us fine." Gibbs walked between the two bedrooms and settled on the sofa in the living room.

"Aren't there enough beds for us?" Marty Deeks ventured into the first bedroom and noted the queen size bed. "Cozy alright." He turned and found Callen behind him, his blue eyes noted the bed and watched Marty walk into the second. "That's better." He placed his go bag onto one of the single beds and laid his tired body onto the mattress.

"I'll bunk with Deeks." Callen decided, noting how much Sam would appreciate the larger bed to himself.

"Thanks." Sam shifted into the bedroom and laid his bag down onto the bed. Now and then his leg gave him grief. Sitting on that jet for eleven hours didn't do his leg any good. He stretched it out and lifted it back up, bending his knee to his chest.

"That leg giving you problems?" Callen watched his partner go through the routine he'd seem him do over the past few months. Too many times, he thought.

"It's the lack of use and sitting on that jet for all that time. How's your lungs doing?"

"Better." Callen frowned. It had taken him too long to recover and he didn't like the idea of getting injured on this trip. "And I like to keep it that way. Don't worry, Sam, I'm not going to do anything stupid."

"Good." Sam sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his boots off. He rotated his feet for movement in his ankles. "Because I'm not up to risking my life to save yours again."

Gibbs pretended to be sleeping, but he listened into the conversation between Callen and Sam. He'd heard all about Callen's fractured rib and vertebrae, how Sam had cut into his lungs to save his life. It was good to know they talked about it. Talking was something he wasn't good at. But he was pleased to note that Callen had Sam to talk things over. That partnership had worked really well. His lips curled when he heard Sam tell Callen he wasn't up to saving his life again. He'd lost count on how many times Sam had saved Callen's life. But each and every time, Sam fought for him, and he couldn't be prouder of the former Navy SEAL. They both held that code from their pasts, his in the Marines, Sam's in the SEALs. Along the way, Callen learned what brotherhood meant. Then Deeks, even though he remained LAPD. The detective grew on Gibbs, and he was pleased to have him on this trip, even if he talked too much. But then again, he'd been accustomed to DiNozzo over the years talking his ear off. The Navy Yard wasn't the same without him—another who had started their career out as a detective.

Callen watched Sam lie down and stretch himself out on the queen size bed, closing his eyes. He turned and met Gibb's paler blue eyes. "You good on there? Cause if you want to swap, I'm happy to take the couch."

"I'm good." Gibbs closed his eyes, his lips relaxed, keeping the smirk that wanted to form on them from showing. He liked this side of Callen, the caring side that he'd witness since he started visiting him and Thea in Victoria. It seemed another world now, how the tide turns and keeps on turning, he mused. He drifted off to sleep, dreaming of his Shannon and Kelly, whom he loved to dream of each night as he drifted off to sleep.

 _Los Angeles_

Shay frowned at the information that appeared on her computer. She looked over her desk at her Technical Operator. "You sure this is correct?"

"Yes. At 2am Paris time, Special Agent Bradley Moore was killed as he exited this nightclub." Eric showed her the photos of the crime scene.

"Was he burned from his current operation, or is this linked to our case?" Shay studied the police report again. "It says here, a gunman was in a black van as it drove by and fired the shots."

"Yes. Not the same M.O. from our case. This could be related to his current undercover operation."

"Where is this in relation to where our agents are staying?"

"A different district." Eric pulled up the map onto the screen in Mosley's office. "Our people are here, this is where Agent Moore was gunned down."

It gave her some comfort to know this happened nowhere near her agents. "Send a message to Sam. Tell him about Moore. They'll have one less agent to interview now."

"Don't you think it's odd, how Agent Moore was killed the night before our agents meet up with him to interview him on our case?" Eric stood in his shorts and Hawaiian shirt, watching Mosley closely.

"It's inconvenient. It's not the same group of Russians, nor the same style of killing. They tied up the other agents, tortured and questioned them, looking for the Fabergé egg. Agent Moore had no idea what hit him before he was gunned down. And it was very public. Not the same style of attack as the Russians we've seen in L.A."

"I still don't like it," Eric grumbled. He typed on his tablet a message to Sam to keep their eyes peeled, and to stay away from the nightlife in Paris. Anything to keep the men safe while they remained in the city of love, would keep him sane. He added in the intel on Agent Moore's death, and a warning to stay clear of the scene.

He was surprised to receive a message in response.

"Already seen it on the news. So this was Moore. Not looking good. What does Mosley think about this?"

"She suspects Moore was burned in his undercover op, nothing to do with the current case. Be vigilant, just in case it's not." Eric replied, satisfied he'd been clear on them to be careful. He couldn't face a repeat of Mexico.

"Gotcha!" Sam shoved his cell into the rear of his pocket and looked back at the television screen. Gibbs picked up the shift in Sam immediately.

"Who was it?"

"Moore."

"Crap!" Gibbs darted his eyes to the doorway where Callen stood, frowning at them.

"What's happened?"

"This!" Sam pointed to the television set. It was an old one, but the image was clear. He walked over and turned the volume up.

Callen's eyes studied the news reports. A black van, drive by shooting. Memories flickered over his synapses, blinking into the forefront of his mind from another drive by shooting. He'd been happy. Saw the Russian girl smile and wave to him. He frowned, was he dreaming?

"G!" Sam grabbed him by the shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Sorry?" He looked puzzled when he met his partner's chocolate brown eyes.

"Are you okay?" Sam worried about Callen and caught Gibbs' eyes as he too showed concern for him.

"I'm fine!" Callen snapped out of the memories. "It just brings back memories of—" he turned and looked at the two men in front of him. "of my own shooting."

"I still don't like you being here." Gibbs firmly told him. "You should stay here today while we go and find our other agent here in Paris."

"I'm coming." Callen stepped forward, but Sam and Gibbs penned him in.

"Remember my warning to you on the flight here," Gibbs warned him.

"This has nothing to do with our case."

"We don't know that." Sam told him. "You're staying here." He looked over to Deeks who exited the bathroom. "Deeks will stay with you, to make sure you behave."

"I'm not on babysitting." Deeks complained.

"Does he look like a baby?" Gibbs glared at him.

Deeks met Callen's cerulean orbs, that made him shift uneasily on his feet. "Well, now that you mentioned it, I see Hudson in him. He's a mini him, so year, I suppose so." Deeks' grin widened and his blue eyes sparkled with delight in teasing Callen.

Callen raised a brow, testing Deeks to continue teasing him.

"I'm sure there's a Super Bowl to watch on t.v. or something." Deeks' eyes shifted to the news. It was showing the weather now, and he'd missed the details on Agent Moore's shooting. However, he did hear what his colleagues were talking about earlier, and knew it would come to this—him keeping Callen inside their apartment, while Gibbs and Sam checked things out with the other agent they were there to see.

"We're in Paris. Since when do the French get interested in our Super Bowl?" Callen grumbled. He was out numbered and manoeuvred. There was no way around this one he realised.

"Soccer?" Deeks grabbed the remote and flicked the channels. "See, Cycling. That will keep us entertained. Callen?"

Callen turned and plonked himself onto the single bed. The springs squeaked every time he shifted in the bed, and he'd had a terrible sleep. It didn't matter that Deeks had called out for Kensi in his sleep, two or three times. He missed Thea and their children, and wished now he'd listened to Mosley and hopped off that jet. He could be on his way to where ever Hetty had taken his family, it would be far better than hanging around this small Parisian apartment with Deeks. He was going to go mad, that was certain.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

It had only been three years since Leroy Jethro Gibbs had been in the city of Paris, but it felt like yesterday, the last time he'd visited the cafés it was known for. He sipped from the cup that held his black coffee and scanned the footpath for any known risks to him or his companion. Samuel Hanna was a presence of his own, and couldn't blend in like Gibbs usually managed to achieve. His six foot three stature and two hundred and twenty-five pounds, presented him as a force not to contend with, but that didn't mean any bad guys they faced wouldn't give it a go. It was reassuring for the ageing agent to have Sam with him. Although Gibbs could still very much hold his own at sixty-seven years of age, it was a comfort to have Sam beside him.

"See anyone?" Sam held his eyes on the window reflection behind Gibbs, trying to not look suspicious in his own surveillance of the area around them.

"Not yet. He's late." The intel provided told them that Special Agent Adrian Prior frequented this cafe at eight forty-five every morning, while he was undercover nearby for a sting of a local terrorist group. They were foreigners who'd managed to sneak into the borders of France a few years back, causing alarm to the U.S. with threats towards the U.S. Navy had been caught up in the chatter, although this group Prior was involved in, were far from the ports. Marseille was well known to hold the U.S. Naval ships, whereas Toulon was the main French Naval Port. Paris wasn't near either of those ports, but that didn't mean these men Prior was friendly with weren't behind any attacks on either port that sat on the southern coast on the Mediterranean Sea.

"I see him." Gibbs took another sip of his coffee, his blue eyes boring into the walnut brown eyes of Prior as he approached. The younger man caught Gibbs eyes and quickly wiped his nose as he walked passed for his coffee order. Gibbs picked up the signal that Prior was being watched and at what position on the clock from where Prior stood. "He's being watched." Gibbs muttered into his cup. "Two men. One at my nine o'clock, the second at my twelve."

"I'll leave you to settle the check." Sam rose from his seat, he'd seen the men Gibbs pointed out and shoved his hands into his pockets, hunching his shoulders and ducking his head. He casually bumped into the first suspect.

"Je suis désolé." [I'm sorry.]

"Regarde où tu vas" [Watch where you're going], the man with deep pools of dark cinnamon eyes, snapped back at him.

Sam moved along, satisfied the GSP tracker he'd placed on the man had taken place. He walked away as if he was leaving the area, but turned back and came up behind the second suspect. He pulled him into an empty alleyway and rendered him unconscious quickly and quietly. The second man was bigger, but still no competition to Sam's bulky frame. He'd flayed his arms and legs to fight back, but the hold Sam held him in, made them useless.

Meanwhile inside the cafe, Gibbs left the euros to settle the check and leave a tip for the waiter, and stood behind Prior. "Meet me out back." He whispered to him. He shifted behind the customers and headed for the restrooms. He waited inside the mens and checked that he was alone. The moment he'd completed the checks, Prior entered, annoyed he'd been contacted while under the watch of two men. "What are you doing here?"

Gibbs locked the door and signalled for him to move over to the basins. He ran the water from the tap. "You know who I am?"

"Yes. Agent Gibbs. I've seen you around in Virginia."

"Then you know it's important for me to be here."

"I've received intel regarding the agents in L.A. I'm far from L.A. and undercover. I'm safe, but if those two men watching me wonder where I am, I'm done for and all of my work on this case was for nothing."

"You don't need to worry about them, they're the least of your problems. Agent Moore was killed at two this morning. He was in Paris. Think you're far from danger now?"

"Crap! That was him, the drive by that's been on the news?"

"Yes." Gibbs looked intently back at Prior. I need to know where the Fabergé egg is. We return the egg, the Russians will stop their hunting."

"What Fabergé egg are you talking about?" Prior looked at him oddly. "I thought this was to do with the Federov case?"

"It is. Around the same time you worked the case, this was stolen from Moscow. This is what the Russians were after before they killed your fellow agents in L.A."

"Crap!"

"Are you going to tell me now what I came for?"

Prior shook his head. "I know nothing about an egg. All I know is that the case went south, some identities were burned during the op. Mostly the NCIS agents, not the CIA, which I found a little too suspicious. I think there's a mole in the CIA that burned Moore and the others. I don't believe I was burned."

"Did the others act suspiciously during the case to make you suspect they were hiding something?"

"Like stealing an egg from Moscow?" Prior shook his head. "No way. Neither of us even entered Russia during the op, we were based in Tbilisi. But two of the CIA officers we were working with did."

Gibbs' muscles tensed under his shirt. "Names. I need their names."

"They went by the names of Borya Lebedev and Kazimir Goncharov."

"We have a situation out here." Sam's voice echoed through his ear piece.

Gibbs frowned. "What kind of situation?"

"The kind you want to avoid. Suspect one has found suspect two unconscious, where I left him. He's made a call, but before he hung up, a black van pulled up just passed the cafe. He's talking to them and pointing towards where you are. I'm bringing our vehicle in the side alley to the south of your location. Get out back ASAP."

"I can't leave my cover," Prior told him.

"Your cover has been blown. The vehicle reported in last night's drive by shooting of Moore is outside. One of the men watching you is talking to them." Gibbs unlocked the door and checked the corridor. He pulled Prior out and headed for the back door. He assessed the area, and quickly pulled Prior along with him. They ran south along the alleyway until they reached the one Sam waited for them. "Get in."

Gibbs shoved Prior into the rear seat and climbed into the front with Sam. "Get down. If they see you, you're dead."

"You know, I was looking forward to my coffee," Prior complained.

"It would have been your last." Gibbs snapped back. He kept his eyes peeled for any signs of danger. Sam drove carefully, not to cause anything to tip off those in the black van that they held the person they were hunting.

"Where are you taking me?"

"To a safe place for now. Then we need to get you out of Europe."

Adrian Prior pressed his lips together as he laid down low in the footwell of the vehicle. His mind was dizzy trying to figure out what direction they were travelling in, but he couldn't figure it out down there. He closed his eyes, trying to figure out when he'd been burned. He knew the group were suspicious of everyone who came along, which is why he'd agreed to have the men tail him his every move, to prove to them he wasn't a spy. Of course he was, but he did what he had to do, to protect his people, especially his fellow Navy personnel.

"Can't you get the U.S. Naval ships out of Marseille while the threat is high?"

"What makes you suspect this group you were involved with were targeting U.S. Naval ships? They're a seven hour drive from Marseille, it doesn't seem possible, other than to lure NCIS agents into Paris, to bring those of you who worked on the federov case to light for these Russians—who you say were burned during the Federov case." Gibbs questioned him.

"I wasn't burned, not like the others, but I had my suspicions on two of the CIA operatives. The ones I gave you names for."

'Borya Lebedev and Kazimir Goncharov."

"Yes."

"We don't have the details on the CIA operatives, only the NCIS agents. You're the only one left alive." Gibbs words hung in the air over Prior, making him realise just how fortunate he was that Gibbs and Sam came along when they did.

Sam pulled up a block away from their apartment. "What do you want to do?" He turned to look at Gibbs for direction.

"I thought you said you were taking me somewhere safe."

"We are." Gibbs dialled his cell and waited for the other person to pick up.

"Hey, boss."

"McGee. I have Agent Prior with us. His cover has been burned. Who do we have in France to help get him out?"

Agent Timothy McGee typed away at his computer for the information his boss requested for him.

"There's Agent Sabrina Ferguson. She's working out of Marseille at the moment. Where are you, boss?"

"We're in Paris."

"Oh! That's a bit of a drive." Timothy typed away and looked at who else they had in the country or in a neighbouring country. "Okay. This may be better. We have Agent Malcom Bernard in Belgium. That's a three hour drive . Do you have a passport for him?"

"I'm sure we can arrange one. We had to take him out from his cover immediately. He needs to get back onto U.S. soil and kept safe."

"You have contacts in Paris for a passport for Prior?" McGee knew his boss had many contacts in Europe.

"I do. Let me handle it. Contact Barnard, give him my number."

"Will do, boss."

Gibbs turned to look at Sam. "I have to go and meet someone, an old friend. I'll take Prior with me, we can do it on foot from here." Gibbs looked at the canal beside the road they were on. He knew this area well. "Send Deeks to meet me here in," he looked at his watch, "two hours."

Sam knitted his brow, "you're sending me off this case?"

"You were seen at the cafe, we cannot afford to be seen together. Not if we're to get Prior out of Europe in one piece."

Sam nodded. "I hear you." He pressed two hours onto his watch and drove off.

Gibbs indicated to Prior to walk with him along the canal and away from the apartment that held Callen and Deeks. They walked five blocks before Gibbs moved away from the canal, heading east. Another four blocks before he pulled Prior into an antiques store. The boutique sat at the ground floor of an old green rendered building, the rendering had broken away in pieces, revealing the old grey stone underneath. It smelled of mothballs and dust.

Prior coughed, "what is this place?"

Gibbs glared at him to keep quiet as they wandered as if they were looking for something. A man in his early seventies with white wirey hair and black rimmed glasses wandered over. Black suspenders pulled his dark grey trousers up over a crisp white shirt, that he had rolled up his arms, midway to his elbows.

"Bonjour, Monsieurs. Que puis-je vous aider aujourd'hui?" [Hello, Sirs. What can I help you with today?]

"Nous cherchons une photo pour mon ami ici." [We are looking for a picture for my friend here.] Gibbs nodded his head over to Prior.

"Oui. Je vois. Quel type de cadre cherchez-vous?" [Yes. I see. What kind of frame are you looking for?]

"Le genre de papier." [The paper kind.]

Pierre nodded, he never smiled, and squeezed Gibbs' shoulder. "Come with me." He shuffled along, adjusting pieces here and there as if he had all the time in the world. However, he understood the time restrictions his clients had, and would work quickly once he was in his office. He told his daughter-in-law, Marie, to watch the boutique, while he went looking for something for the gentlemen. Gibbs remained inside the store front, while Prior followed Pierre.

Gibbs trusted Pierre, not only to do the job he needed, but to keep his mouth shut about Prior ever being there. It was a good thing there were no security cameras inside his shop or in the streets nearby. There were many areas around Paris that had them installed, but this area of Paris was old and discreet. No one cared for such things as security cameras. Only locals frequented the boutiques and cafés around the small square, which had a haze of green from the summer growth on the trees that dotted the middle and outer edges of the square.

He felt safe here. Gibbs picked up an old leather bag and explored it. Placed it back, took a few steps and picked up a small porcelain ballerina that posed on top of a pink jewellery box. He studied the winder on the back, and instantly thought of Alice. He took it over to the counter. It had small scenes of Paris on the side of the box, and he knew she'd love it.

"Combien pour ceci?" [How much for this?]

"Dix-huit euros." It was worth every bit of the eighteen euros, he mused.

"Je vais le prendre. [I'll take it.] Merci."

Prior exited the rear room and stood beside Gibbs while he waited for Alice's gift to be wrapped for him. Gibbs turned and understood that Pierre needed time to complete the passport properly and they would wait in the café in the square until it was complete. He looked at his watch, they had time before Deeks met them at the rendezvous in and hour and fifteen minutes.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

 _A/N: Thanks for being patient with me. I hope you enjoy a longer update on this story. Thank you to those who have left reviews._

* * *

Callen and Deeks were focused on their chess game, when they heard a noise at the door. Their hands went for their weapons and waited to see who would enter. Neither Sam or Gibbs had messaged them that they were on their way back. The door edged slightly open when the sight of the dark skin hand of Sam Hanna emerged. Callen and Deeks sighed with relief when Sam entered.

"You could have given us the heads up you were coming back." Callen turned the safety switch back on and shoved his GLOCK 19 back into the rear of his waistband. "Where's Gibbs?"

"Busy." Sam observed the chess game at play. He looked over to Deeks, surprised he played. "You play?"

"I sure do." Deeks grinned slightly. "Although, I'm losing badly."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Sam pulled a chair over to watch them. "Gibbs needs you to meet him at this location at eleven hundred."

"Why Deeks?" Callen looked sideways at his partner.

"Because we narrowly escaped with Prior before the black van from last night's shooting turned up at the cafe. We're trying to get him out of the country, Gibbs is seeing an old friend."

"This means Moore's shooting was by the Russians."

"Yes. Except they've changed their m.o."

"Either means they have the Fabergé egg, or they know Moore and Prior don't have it, and they're cleaning up. But what exactly?"

"Prior suspected two CIA operatives to be behind all of the NCIS agents being burned on the case, except for him. He thought he was safe until the van showed up."

"Did Prior give you the names?"

"He has, but he only knows the names they operated under in the Federov case. They were the only ones who had the opportunity to sneak into Russia during the op."

"CIA operatives causing grief for NCIS again." Callen gritted his teeth and flexed his fists.

"Which is why Deeks is moving with Gibbs into Belgium. There's an NCIS agent who can get Prior back to the U.S."

Looks like we have a couple of CIA rogue operatives to find." Callen smirked.

"Or we head home and finish this case back in L.A." Sam responded, his dimple deepened with his own smile.

Callen rose, he pushed his king forward. "Check mate."

"What?" Deeks studied the move and realised Callen had beaten him too easily again. He needed to study and practise more than he had.

Deeks stood and stretched his limbs. "I better get ready for a drive."

"You should be back before midnight." Sam told him. "Pack light."

Deeks nodded and walked away, thinking about the case at hand. He had someone at his headquarters moving dead bodies to resolve too. The sooner they returned to L.A., the better.

Gibbs knew something was up before the older man entered the cafe he and Prior were waiting in. He sent a message to Callen.

"Backup stat."

"On it." Callen checked his weapon, Deeks and Sam looked at him quizzically. "Gibbs needs backup. We got to go."

Sam and Deeks followed Callen out the door, Sam threw the keys over to Callen, knowing he'd know where to go. His partner didn't disappoint, driving east over the canal and south and then east again.

"Send Gibbs a message, we're good to go."

Gibbs looked up from his cell, pleased Callen knew this place as well as he did. He rose from his seat and Prior mirrored him. "We got to go." Gibbs headed for the exit, he had about five seconds of getting that passport from off his old friend, whose eyes told him more than he needed to say.

"I am sorry," the older man told him. "Go quickly."

Gibbs merely nodded, his eyes darted the surrounding buildings. He didn't need to know the details, only that the old man had received a visitor or more while organising the passport. His old friend wasn't someone who was well known, only certain agents for the U.S. knew of his existence, and only those who'd worked in the industry for a real long time. It had to be the CIA operatives they were after, but from where he walked, he couldn't see anyone who looked suspect. He wished they had the intel on who these men were, what they looked like. He was at a disadvantage, and he didn't like it.

"You tell me if you see anyone familiar."

"Got it." Prior's eyes scanned the area, mimicking Gibbs. So far he hadn't seen anyone he recognised. But he felt a tingle up his spine, that instinct of knowing you were being watched.

A familiar sound of a gun pop echoed around the square. The locals reacted. Some screamed, while others ran for cover. A hot searing bullet narrowly missed Gibbs' head as he ducked, but it hit their target of Prior. He yelped in pain, and held his left arm, to stop the blood from pouring out. Jethro's eyes studied the wound and decided Prior would live for the time being. He pushed Prior south, his eyes scanning the surrounding buildings. In particular, from the direction the bullet had come from. Anther pop, and Gibbs knew they were exposed. He pushed Prior again, saving his life. The second bullet missed him by a centimetre. It was close, too close for Gibbs' comfort. "Run!"

They bolted for the southern exit from the square, and managed to dip down passed the corner of a building before a third pop sounded. Then more echoed, and Gibbs knew Callen, Sam and Deeks, had arrived to assist them. He peeped around the corner and smirked. The shooter who had positioned himself on the third floor of a building to the northern end of the square reacted to a bullet that hit him in the chest. He fell forward through the open window and onto the red and white café awning, before rolling onto a parked car. The small Fiat rocked from the contact and its alarm sounded. There was no movement from the shooter, while people kept to the safety of a building for the moment, not daring to be exposed and shot.

Callen appeared next to Gibbs. "You need to get out of Paris." His eyes shifted to Prior. "He's injured."

"He'll live." Gibbs responded. "Keys?"

Callen pulled them out of his front denim jeans pocket. "Be safe."

"You too." At that moment, Deeks and Sam appeared next to Callen.

"We're still going?" Deeks inquired, not sure what the plan was now after this latest attack.

"Yes." Gibbs looked to Callen. "Don't be followed back to the safe house. Don't go out unless the apartment is on fire." It was a warning to Callen to stay put and stay safe while he and Deeks drove to Belgium to get Prior out of France.

"Got it. Deeks knows where the car is."

"Good." Gibbs looked to the detective who for a moment was lost in where they were.

"Right. This way." Marty Deeks led them down another laneway to where Callen had parked.

Callen shook his head. "He'd get lost here if someone didn't take good care of him. And Kensi would have my scalp if anything happened to him on this trip."

"As would Thea if anything happened to you. And I like my scalp." Sam shoved his weapon into the rear of his jeans and pulled his partner in close for protection. "You're still recovering from three months ago. You cannot tell me your back still doesn't bother you?"

Callen grimaced at the power of Sam Hanna's arms around his shoulders. But he felt safe with his partner beside him. "You got me." He admitted simply. "But you have to agree, I'm far better than I used to be."

"Yeah!" Sam agreed. "You had us all worried after Mexico. Thought you'd be an invalid for the rest of your life. I thought for a moment I'd lost you for good this time. I don't need another scare like that, you hear me?"

"Me neither. I'm grateful you saved me again." His hand moved to the scar where Sam had cut a hole into his lungs and inserted a pen to allow the blood to ooze out of it. The fractured rib had pierced his left lung and he'd almost died from the injury. "I remember what you did for me every day."

"Good. Now which way do we go now to our apartment?"

"West, then north, then west again." Callen loved being back in Paris, but he wished he had Thea with him instead of Sam, and it was for vacation rather than for work. It was always for work, and that annoyed him. Why couldn't he visit places like Paris for vacation like normal people did?

They'd walked a few blocks when Callen's gut instinct kicked in. "We're being followed." His eyes scanned the pavement, there were dozens of people walking, jogging, sitting at cafés. Someone—one person, that's all it took, was watching them, and he didn't like it one bit.

Sam's eyes scanned around them, he too couldn't see who it was either. "We best not return to the apartment. Not yet."

"No." Callen noticed a sign for a bar and slipped in, his partner followed. It was dark and smokey inside, but a haven for the partners until it was safe.

The bar was busy for the middle of the day. It was filled with only men, not a single female in sight. Which for Callen and Sam, was unusual. Normally there'd be at least a woman behind the bar or waitressing back home.

They slotted into a booth to the back where one of them could see who entered, looking for them. A male in his twenties walked over to take their order.

"Bonjour. Que désirez-vous?" ["What would you like?"]

"Deux seize soixante-quatres." [Two 1664s."]

The man left them to sort out their order, giving the men some peace for the moment. It was cool inside the bar and the men appreciated it from the warm day. Another man entered the bar and slid onto a stool and ordered. Sam and Callen breathed a little easier. At least here they were in the dim light and out of the watchful eye. But for how long?"

The waiter returned and placed their bottles of beer onto two mats and walked away.

"We could use the restrooms?" Sam suggested. He had his back to the front entrance, but a clear view of the rear that went passed the restrooms.

"We could. Let's just enjoy the beer for now." Callen was thirsty and appreciated the breather after their dash to Gibbs' rescue and the shootout. They were here under the radar, and the last thing they wanted was to cause a scene, or for the authorities to get wind of them and take them in for questioning. For now, staying put in the bar seemed the best decision to make.

The waiter returned. "Le monsieur là-bas veut savoir si vous êtes impliqués?" ["The gentleman over there wants to know if you two are involved?"]

Callen's eyes shifted to the man at the bar who'd entered after them. "Qu'y a-t-il si nous sommes ou non?" ["What is it to him if we are or aren't?"]

The waiter lowered himself, he was tall and lean and spoke softly. "Il s'intéresse à votre ami. Il aime les hommes africains." ["He is interested in your friend. He likes African men."]

Callen's eyes shifted to Sam's, who hadn't understood what the waiter had said. "Dis-lui que nous sommes." ["Tell him we are."]

"Merci." The waiter left them and Sam looked at him with interest.

"What was that about?"

"You have an admirer. The man who entered the bar after we arrived, he likes African men."

"Tell him I'm from Brooklyn. I have no idea where my ancestors originated from."

Callen chuckled. "I told the waiter we're together."

Sam looked over his shoulder towards the bar. The gentleman was in his mid forties with dark hair and brown eyes. He was an attractive man, and he raised a glass to Sam. Sam nodded and turned back to his partner. "What kind of bar have we entered?"

Callen smirked. "Why do you ask?"

"I need to learn the language more."

"After all the other languages you know? Such as Arabic, Hebrew, Danish, Farsi, Korean, Japanese, and Spanish." Callen ran through the list of languages Sam was fluent in. Sam had just as many as he did.

"Because if I'm somewhere where you know the language and I don't, I always find myself in a disadvantaged position."

"Now you know how I feel when we're in Afghanistan."

"Ditto!" Sam saw his point. "Can we leave now?"

"Don't tell me you're feeling uncomfortable being hit on?"

"It's a first for me."

"Well, I'm offended." Callen placed his hand over his heart. "I thought I meant more to you?"

"Very funny." Sam rose from his seat. "I'm heading for the restrooms. Watch my back."

"I'm watching." Callen chuckled again. It took the gentleman from the bar thirty seconds before he followed Sam through. Callen wondered if he should follow, there didn't appear to be anyone else watching them. Could it have been a trap? Sam stood out like a sore thumb in these parts. He decided to follow. When he pushed the door open to the mens restrooms, Sam was wrestling with the man. As suspected, Sam thought he'd recognised the man from the café that morning. He was the one he'd bumped into and had followed Prior, until they got him out of their grasps. Callen pulled his weapon out and pointed it at the man's head.

"I wouldn't move if I were you."

"You're American." The man's accent slipped through. But for the moment, neither Callen or Sam could place where this man was from.

"That we are. He doesn't know where his ancestors come from, as far as he's concerned, he's American, not African." Callen kept his stance with the weapon steady. "Mine, however, are Russian. Know any of my relatives?"

"I do not." The man admitted. "But my boss does."

"I'll make a deal with you. You tell us what you know, and I won't allow my friend here to damage your pretty face." The man squirmed slightly under Sam's hold.

"Okay!" The man raised his hands in defence.

Callen stepped back and allowed Sam and their suspect room for space.

"We were asked to keep a close eye on someone who'd joined our group."

"The man you followed this morning, whom the men in the black van were after?"

'Yes. How did you know?" The dark cinnamon eyes stared wide at Sam's answer. Callen knew nothing of the details, only what Sam had given to him earlier, before they rushed out to provide backup for Gibbs.

"You'll be surprised what we know. What we want to know from you is everything about your group and their association with the Russians." Callen responded.

"I don't know much about the Russians, other than our boss asking us to ensure Mateo remained at the café until the van turned up." Mateo was Prior's cover name.

"Did he say why?" Sam asked him.

"I don't ask." The man told them.

"Maybe you should." Sam added.

"I don't want a death wish."

"What's your name?" Sam pulled his cell out and snapped a photo of the man.

"Luca."

"Do you have a last name, Luca?" Sam sent the image through to Eric back in Los Angeles and hoped it didn't take him long to find his identity.

"Alexiadis."

"Why have you joined this group? You're Greek, not from war torn Syria." Once the man had told them his name, they realised he was from Greece. Sam sent the name through to Eric to validate what he told them.

"I needed a job. I was employed as Security. Like a bodyguard." Luca explained to him.

"So you have no knowledge about the group's plans of attack on U.S. Naval ships in the port in Marseille?"

"What?!" Luca looked at Callen shocked. "No way. There's no way I'd be involved in attacking U.S. Naval ships."

"Then tell us what your group has been involved with?"

"Transporting goods from Syria to Russia."

"Stolen goods." Callen pulled out his cell and dialled Eric. "Yeah, Eric. Have there been any reports of missing artefacts from Syria since the war began?"

"What, beside the ones destroyed by the war?" Eric pushed his glasses closer to his face.

"Yes. Smaller ones than buildings."

"I'll look into it. You don't think this has anything to do with the missing Fabergé egg, do you?"

"That's what I'm thinking."

"Tell Sam the name matches the photo. Your suspect is who he says he is."

"Thanks, I'll tell him." Callen disconnected the call. "Luca." Callen watched their suspect closely. "What do you know of a Fabergé egg? It looks like this?" He showed him the photo.

Luca remained quiet for a moment.

"Luca?" Sam pressed.

"I've seen it. But it was a year ago. Two men passed it onto our boss, asked him to keep it safe for them. They were American like you."

"Do you know where it is now?"

"I do."

"And the men who gave it to your boss?"

"I think their names were Tony and Isaac. I never heard their last names mentioned."

"That's a start." Sam released his hold on Luca. "What did Eric say about our friend here?"

"That he's who he says he is." Callen pressed his lips together, thinking. "What's your boss' name and the names of the Russians?"

"Rasha Halabi. I don't know any of the Russian names."

"Could you describe what they look like to a sketch artist?"

"Look. I've told you all I know. I can show you on a map the location of where this egg is. As far as I know it's still there. If I don't return soon, the boss will get angry and demand answers."

"You can go." Sam nodded. "But if we see you watching us again, it will be your last time walking a free man."

"I got you." Luca straightened out his jacket and exited the mens room.

"We have to leave." Callen started. "We've been here longer than we should have already. For all we know, the group Luca works for could be surrounding the building."

"You still have trust issues." Sam jested.

"Says he who was suspicious of the man at the bar and didn't tell his partner."

"I didn't have the opportunity." Sam scanned the exit. "Clear."

They exited through the back exit onto an alleyway, and headed north before walking back out onto the main streets again. After a couple of blocks, and the way was clear, they hit the canal, and knew they were a short walk back to the apartment.

The ground shook. Then a loud bang echoed out through the neighbourhood. People cowered, wondering what the heck was going on. "Crap!" Callen called out. Both men looked into the direction of where a bomb exploded. "It's not safe to stay out in the open. We need to find a new safe house."

Sam looked over to where their apartment was once situated. Staying in the bar longer than usual had saved their lives. He nodded and followed his partner. Callen quickly messaged Gibbs before going dark. They switched off their mobiles so no one could track them. Just in case. Sam did the same soon after messaging Eric about the bomb. They needed to get out of Paris and to find somewhere safe to hide until they could meet up with Gibbs and Deeks again.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

 **A/N: Sorry for the delay in writing this next chapter, between summer holidays and a painful shoulder, and working on my original works, this has been neglected.**

 ** _Somewhere in the outskirts of Paris_**

The door looked the same as it had fifteen years ago. The same grey paint and scratches into the wood. Yet, it seemed a lifetime ago since Callen stood on this stoop, ready to knock. The lion knocker made from brass was worn out like the door, and he hesitated. What if she no longer lived at this address? He licked his lips before he flicked the knocker.

The sound echoed down the alleyway, into the night. It had taken him and Sam four hours to walk to this location, rerouting, making certain, neither of them had been followed.

He heard movement on the inside, footsteps made their way along the old wooden floor to the front door. He looked back at the peep hole and waited. His heart raced.

A key scratched in the lock before it wedged open. "We are closed for business." The French accent was familiar, as well as the scent of the woman's perfume.

"Scarlet."

The door opened wider, an older version of the woman he'd known once upon a time, stood in front of him.

"It's good to see you." A hint of a smile edged on his lips. "You look as beautiful as I remember."

"Your words of flattery never got you anywhere before, Mason. What makes you think it will work on me tonight?" Her eyes sparkled, a sign she was pleased to see him. This was the old game they'd played before, and now it was as if time had stood still, except for the fragments of white hairs that sparkled in his dark blond hair, and a few more wrinkles under his eyes. She looked timeless, as if she was still the young woman he remembered.

"We need your help." He turned to Sam, and for the first time, Scarlet noticed his companion. He stepped into the light and nodded his head.

"Bonsoir."

"Bonsoir." Scarlet gave him a warm smile. "Come inside." She stepped back and allowed them access. "To the rear." She quickly added.

Callen took the lead, he remembered the long narrow house well, the smell of Scarlet's cooking reached his senses as he approached the kitchen.

"Please sit. Can I offer you a drink?"

"The usual, thanks." Callen and Sam sat at the old wooden dining table, Callen ran his hands over the fine timber, remembering his previous visits to this place.

Scarlet poured two shots of whiskey for the men and laid them onto the table. She sat in a vacant chair and watched them closely. Callen's cerulean orbs met her medium brown eyes that reminded him of walnuts. Silence held in the air for a brief moment. Sam's attempts to drag any information out of his partner over where they were going and whom this woman was, had failed. Callen walked silently, unwilling to divulge a single word on the matter.

"How can I help you and your friend?" Her hands clasped in front of her on the table, patience was on her side.

"We need a vehicle to drive across the border into Belgium."

"Is this a one way trip?"

"Yes."

"What mess have you gotten yourselves into this time?"

"Nothing we asked for."

"That's what you told me the last time, when you needed somewhere to hide for a few days, and a ride out of Paris. Mason, how many times will you keep coming back here, hoping I will help you?"

"I'm sorry, Scarlet. If there was another way—"

She pressed her lips together, thinking. "It is best if I do not know the details just incase you were followed here."

"We weren't followed." Callen assured her.

"Time will tell of the matter." She rose from the chair, she stretched her limbs out before walking to a hook.

"There is a place just across the border into Belgium where you can leave the vehicle. I will write the address down. When you arrive, you ring the bell, and tell them that you are a friend. Give them the keys, and they will get it back to me soon."

"Thank you, Scarlet. I really appreciate your help."

"I never doubted your sincerity, Mason." Her voice softened, clearly there was a story between these two that Sam couldn't figure out. She rose onto her toes and gently pressed her lips to Callen's.

"For old times sake." She stepped back, and showed them through to the garage. "Stay safe."

"Merci." Callen stopped in front of her, he gently grazed his finger over her cheek. "I'll never forget you."

He left as quickly as he arrived. She drew in a deep breath and sat back down at the chair she'd just vacated. She knew as soon as she saw him that he was in love with another woman. She closed her eyes and felt the tingle of where his finger had ghosted her skin. Once upon a time, her prince charming had entered her life. For a short moment in time, and then he was gone, as if he'd been a figment of her imagination. No, she reminded herself. He'd been real, and since that first meeting, he'd returned another five times. It had been so long since she'd seen him, and never expected to see him again. Somehow she knew that tonight would be the last. She heaved out a breath, the tears fell, and she wrapped her arms around herself. She'd helped him once more. She would do anything to help him again if the situation arose. Anything.

A loud banging sounded at her front door. Her eyes opened and fear for Mason and his friend shot through her like an electric shock. She looked at the watch on her wrist. They'd left fifteen minutes earlier. She was thankful they'd had time to escape. Her eyes scanned the kitchen and spotted the two glasses she'd poured a shot of whiskey in earlier for them. She moved to hide them into a cupboard and sat back down in her chair. She delayed her walk for another moment. A second loud banging sounded on the door. Would they leave if she stayed where she was? She wasn't in the mood for company right then, her heart cracked at the seams. She closed her eyes and stayed put. The noise at the front became more urgent.

"Open up." The accent was unfamiliar, and fear for Mason's life rushed through her. Who was after him this time? He'd assured her they hadn't been followed.

Her body bolted when the front door was forced open. The sounds of footsteps coming closer to her had her eyes widen with fear.

"What do you want?" She asked them in French.

"The men that were here?"

She narrowed her eyes at the man in black with greasy blond hair that was neatly held in place. His grey eyes made her shudder. Her eyes looked around the room, the men that stood with him, each held a pistol at her. They looked like trained soldiers, and she had no idea why she found herself in this position. Why did they look angry at her as if she was the enemy?

"There is no one here but me."

There was only one man who spoke to her, he pulled out a photo and laid it on the table for her to look at.

"Do you know this man?"

It was an image of Mason. But in the photo he wasn't alone. He was with a petite woman and three children. The woman he loved and their children. She picked the photo up and studied them. They looked happy. Her eyes looked back up at her intruder. "No. I do not know this man. Who is he?"

"A traitor."

"A traitor to whom? I am French. This photo looks like California."

"Your eyes are sharp. Yes, this photo was taken of this man in California. It is where he lives with his family. But he's a Russian spy."

Now she recognised the accent. The man who spoke with her was Russian.

"I do not know any Russians or if they are spies or not. Now please, leave me alone."

The man stood still, watching her carefully. She was grieving, there was no evidence this woman was hiding anyone. "We will search your house first." He signalled to his men to search.

Her eyes watched them move around the pantry, out the rear towards the garage, and up the stairs to where two bedrooms and a bathroom were located. She was alone in this house, and for once, she was thankful for that.

"The house is clear." One of the men told the man with the grey eyes.

"The garage has one vehicle inside, there is no one hiding out there."

It seemed like a lifetime for Scarlet before the men left her in peace. She locked her front door more securely this time, not wishing for any more intruders. Her hand shook as she turned the last of the locks. There will be no more opening of her door at night. No, she decided. It was time she too made a move to a new location. There was no use for her to wait for Mason to return, he had moved on from her over the past fifteen years, and now she knew it would never be safe for him to return either.

She climbed the narrow stairs towards her bedroom and pulled a small suitcase out from the top of the closet. She carefully folded clothes into the case and locked it. She pulled out her passport and other documents. A tin with spare Euros was hidden well behind a false wall behind her closet, along with her important documents. In all the years she lived there to be a safe haven for U.S. Agents who were in need, she knew for the first time, she'd stayed too long. It was time she left, and returned home to Washington D.C., and made amends with her family, if any of them were still alive. The illusion she was French had shattered, and it was time for a new chapter in her life. Director Vance was not going to be happy for her to leave her post suddenly, but she no longer felt safe in Paris. She hoped he understood. It had been a longer assignment than Vance's predecessors had told her, two or three years at the most. She stayed on incase a certain blue-eyed agent returned. Now he had, and she knew that whatever happened between them was well and truly over.

* * *

For once, Sam hated the silence. "G. Who was that woman?"

"I would have to kill you if I tell you."

Sam scoffed, thinking his partner was jesting with him, but when he saw the set jaw, he knew he was serious.

"You are serious."

"Unfortunately, I am not allowed to tell you who she is. It will put her life at risk."

"Fair enough." He looked outside the window, his own reflection glared back at him from the dim lights on the dashboard. "Do you trust her?"

"With my life."

"Good." Sam was satisfied, even if he didn't know whom she was.

They drove in the dark, the only light was from the vehicle they drove in, a Citroen C1, and it was cramped inside for Sam's long legs. However, Sam noted it drove smoothly and efficiently. He eyed his partner who kept his eyes on the road, looking into his revision mirror for tales every so often. The road was light on traffic, and if anyone was following them, they'd stand out. It gave them some form of comfort, relieving them of the stress they'd gone through earlier in the city of love. There was no love for them in Paris now. Not after their safe house had been burned. Literally.

"Do we know if that house was owned by Mosley or if it was an NCIS safe house?"

"We may never know the answer to that one. But if it did belong to Mosley, we can agree her identity has been burned, and we must stay away from her." Callen nibbled on his lower lip, his mind wandering back to Thea and their children. At home he loved being Stephen Campbell, husband and father. But at work he was G. Callen, the infamous agent without a name. So they thought. Not now. His real name Grisha remained a foreign name to him, like it belonged in the past when his mother and sister were still alive.

"It doesn't help her what happened in Mexico, and the problems she brought back with her and onto us."

"No." Mosley wasn't his favourite person, even before Mexico. She'd pushed Deeks out too, which didn't sit well with him. They needed their team back to being what it was, when Granger was alive.

"I miss Granger. I remember how much we hated him at first. Riled me up. But over time, he softened, and he was clear that he was batting in our corner to protect us. Mosley hasn't done anything but for her own ambitions. It doesn't sit well with me at all."

"I agree." Sam did agree two hundred percent with his partner, but he couldn't help wonder if it had been any one of them in her position having a child with someone who turned bad, how would they behave?

"But you side with her."

"I'm trying to understand her."

Callen arched his brow, surprise swept over him.

"You like her?"

Sam scoffed, his hands fisted. "No way!"

"Okay!" Callen left the conversation be. They had to get out of France and hope they didn't get stopped before they reached the destination in Belgium, to help them get home.

The signs for the border appeared, and both men became on guard. Their escape had been too easy, and hoped they made it this time.

The small Citroen did not let up and they crossed the border without incident. Both agents sighed with relief, and focused on the address they'd been given. Now they were over the border, it was safe to turn their cells on. Ten missed calls by Mosley. A text from Gibbs that they had delivered the package safe and sound.

"Tell Gibbs where to pick us up."

"Will do." Sam sent the address and was surprised when Gibbs responded, "already there."

"Does Gibbs know of this place the woman has sent us too?"

"It's possible."

"Does Gibbs know the mystery woman too?"

"He does."

"That makes sense."

Callen pulled up across the road and exited the Citroen. He locked it and walked across the street and rang a bell. A tall man in his fifties answered. "Come in."

The two men crossed the threshold and were greeted with familiar faces.

"When did you get here?"

"This was the address mcGee sent us to."

"That figures."

"What figures?" Deeks inquired, wondering how the agents knew where to find them. "Where did you find your ride? A bit small for Sam isn't it?"

"Don't mention it around the big guy. He fitted. Just."

They looked over and watched Sam stretch out his long limbs and roll his shoulders. Deeks nodded, he would have been in the same situation had he been left in Paris.

"Here's the keys. You know where to return it to?" Callen handed the Citroen C1 keys over to the man who'd greeted them.

"I did. But she's gone. Left the safe house. You had been followed there. A group of armed men pushed their way into the house, looking for you. Your partner stands out."

"We rerouted our walk there. Took us four hours to reach it, since it wasn't safe to catch public transport. Especially after our apartment blew up." Callen sighed. "Is she safe?"

"Well, someone is looking for you. And yes, she is safe. The men left her be after they couldn't find you. She has left her post after fifteen years. She stayed there in hope of seeing you again."

Callen's body tensed. "She was placed there to do a job."

"And she did it. And would have continued to do it if it meant saving you. Which she has. Again."

Annoyance flickered in Callen's eyes. "I haven't seen her in years. Why would she expect there to be something now, after all this time?" His neck flushed red from embarrassment of speaking about Scarlet with this unknown man, obviously another NCIS agent placed to protect their people in times of need.

"Because she was in love with you." Malcom Bernard told him.

Callen closed his eyes for a moment. His breath hitched. He never intended for Scarlet to fall for him so deep. It had been a fling, a short time thing, while she hid him from whomever was after him. It had been good while it lasted, but he was not Mason, the only name she knew him by. He knew now he'd broken her heart a few hours earlier, and he'd placed her in danger with these Russians who were after him.

Callen opened his eyes and stared back at Bernard. "I had no idea. It's been ten years since I was last in Paris."

"Ten long years for her to wait for you to return."

Guilt ripped through him. "What made her think I'd return? There is no guarantee of a next time in our business."

"No there isn't. But she stayed just the same, protecting our people and helping them get out of Paris, like I'm doing now, to get you home to the U.S."

"She was doing her job, like the rest of us." Callen argued. "You don't know she stayed for me."

Sam watched the tension in the room, remembering the gentle kiss the woman had given his partner hours earlier, and the tenderness Callen had showed back to her. They were saying a final goodbye. Why hadn't he realised this?

"Where is she now?"

"She's left Paris. That's all she's told me. Her house has been burned."

Callen nodded. He felt on edge, even across the border. "We need to keep moving."

"Yes." Bernard answered simply.

Callen's eyes met Gibbs' who knew the history between them and understood what had taken place. It was easy to see the change in Callen, that he was happy and settled. Scarlet would have seen this change and known he'd found the love of his life. But that didn't explain the visit she had with the Russian men. It was a good thing she was French, and could fool the men that she had no idea who there were or where they were. She would have made an incredible actress. The one thing about Scarlet that set her above her peers, was her dedication and her skills in becoming someone she wasn't.

"We have a U.S. Army plane leaving in the next few hours. You'll be on it for D.C."

"Thank you." Callen plonked himself down on the dining chair and looked into space. He felt like a caged tiger, needing his freedom. He was never good with waiting.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

 _Flathead Lake_

It had been a few days since Thea had heard from Callen, and couldn't dispel the worry that continued to eat at her. She'd lost how many times she'd vomited since arriving at the lake, from it all.

Kensi looked over at her with worry. "Are you okay?"

Thea shook her head. "I'm literally sick with worry."

"What you need is some camomile tea." Hetty brought two cups and a pot of tea on a tray and laid it onto the table on the rear deck.

Kensi's mother, Julia, was in her element, playing with the children on the lawn. She was a natural, and this surprised Kensi, after being an only child—she thought her mother to be standoffish to children prior to her son being born. Now she saw another side to her mother with the Campbell children. A hint of a smile swept over her features, her hand going to her belly, thinking of their second child that was on its way. Wondering if it was a boy or a girl.

"Your mother looks happy." Hetty stood at the railing, looking out.

"She is. I never realised just how much she adores children."

"Did you ever ask her why she never had anymore?"

"No. I always assumed one was enough for her. She always looks well dressed, hair set and makeup done."

"None of that determines whether a woman loves children."

"No. I suppose it doesn't." Kensi's eyes shifted to the expansive sloped lawn and watched in wonder of her mother's antics. It had been the right decision to bring her with them. Especially since she felt tired and was suffering morning sickness. Her eyes darted back to her friend. She studied Thea, whom she's always known as their Analyst, Nell Jones, since she arrived at OSP. But after her kidnapping, Callen had taken her away to hide under new names. Thea had stuck, and the children only knew her by this, which is why the cover continued. And she supposed, it had kept them safe, since Callen had been hunted over the years due to his family. A thought came into her mind. She noticed Hetty had left them be, and entered the house again, back onto her laptop, to keep in the loop of what was going on with their people in Paris.

Kensi cleared her throat. "You don't think that you being sick might be something else?"

Thea's eyes widened at Kensi's suggestion. Her mind whirled while she thought on the idea.

"It's possible." Her hand ran over her belly. It was flat even after three children that burned energy like a power station, keeping her on her toes.

"We should visit a drugstore while we're here, just to be on the safe side."

Thea nodded and sipped on her tea, watching her three children being entertained by Julia.

"She'll be worn out in no time."

"I think my mother is surprising even me."

Just then, the children ran up the hill and climbed the steps to where their mothers sat, breaking their peace and quiet. Their chatter broke the silence for the two friends.

"When's Dad coming?" Alice looked over to her mum and frowned. "Mom? Are you okay? You look pale."

There was no hiding from Alice.

"I'm okay. Thanks for asking." Thea rose and walked into the house towards the bathroom. The polished floorboards echoed her children's feet behind her. She sighed when she closed the door and sat down on the toilet. She closed her eyes and tried her cell.

"The number you have dialled is unavailable."

That was odd. Over the past couple of days, she'd been greeted by a voice saying the number was switched off. Not unavailable.

"Thea?"

Thea opened the door and found Hetty standing in the hallway, her concern for her etched in her weathered face.

"Maybe try him on this number?" She handed her a satellite phone.

"Thank you, Hetty."

She took a walk out front this time to get away from the screaming and banging. Nothing out of the usual.

"Agent Callen."

"Stephen?"

Callen's eyes lifted and met Sam's when his wife answered the call. The number was blocked and he had no idea who was calling on the satellite phone on the plane.

"Hey, babe. How are you? I've missed you."

"We've missed you too. Where are you?"

"Almost in D.C. Are you safe?"

"We are. Hetty sure does know some amazing places."

"That she does. I'm not sure how long it will be before you can come home or we come to where you are. Things changed in Paris pretty quickly for us."

"As long as you're safe and come home to us."

"We will, babe."

"How are the kids?"

"Going crazy like always. But good. Real good."

"Has Alice had anymore nightmares?"

"None."

"Good." Callen thought more over the dreams and wondered what they meant.

"I better go." Thea finally said. The tall pine trees provided her some shade from the heat of the sun.

"I love you."

"Ditto." She disconnected the call and headed for the house. She was about to enter when she turned, surprised to see a man walk towards her.

"Hello. Can I help you?"

"Mrs Campbell. I hope you're enjoying your stay?"

Her senses went on alert, how did this man know who she was and where she was.

"Who are you?"

Alice heard her mother's voice and ran up towards the front door. Her eyes widened and she pulled back behind her mother.

"Mom!" She tried to pull her mom back from the man.

"Hello." The man's face brightened when he saw Alice. "You must be Alice."

Thea saw the look of fear on Alice's face and pulled her service weapon out from the small of her back and aimed it at him.

"It's okay, Thea." Hetty stood beside her and lowered her weapon.

"But he's the man in my bedroom." Alice's voice had risen in pitch, showing the fear she was experiencing.

Thea lifted her weapon again. "Who are you and how do you know who we are and where to find us?"

The man was older, maybe in his late sixties, early seventies. Greying around the edges, but tall and strong. His hair was tied back into a ponytail, hiding the length of it. A small smile graced his lips.

"My apologies. I should have introduced myself first. My name is John Callen. Clara was my cousin."

"Oh my!" Hetty gasped. She noted the vibrant blue eyes, and recognised the resemblance to her agent.

"Do you have proof?" Thea wasn't dropping her weapon until the man proved who he was.

"Owen Granger can vouch for me."

"He can't." Thea quickly responded. Her heart raced as the adrenaline coursed through her.

"Why—" He lowered his eyes, it meant one thing. He looked up again at the two petite women before him, who almost looked like mother and daughter, but he knew better than to presume. Especially, when he knew of the older woman. H e heard stories about her—the ones that involved his cousin's son interested him the most. So he'd gone looking for her. It hadn't been easy, but when he did find her, he'd found Grisha soon after, and discovered he was going by a different name and had a family. Seeing Grisha with his kids had warmed him.

"How?" He finally asked.

"Agent Orange came back and took him two years ago." Hetty told him, her voice barely audible.

"I'm sorry to hear. He was a good man."

"Thank you. How did you know Owen?"

"We'd worked together at the CIA." His eyes shifted to Thea. "Clara wasn't the only Callen to follow in her father's footsteps. I see Grisha has done the same."

"Callen only learned about his family in recent years."

"I know. I have a message for him from his father. He's in danger."

"He's away on assignment at the moment." Hetty addressed him Hetty hid her surprise that the man before them had seen Garrison. There was hope again for Callen to see his father before too long. "We cannot divulge where he is for his safety."

"Why did you break into our house and scare my daughter?" Thea wasn't certain to believe this man just yet. She was sure Stephen would agree with her caution.

"I'm sorry. But it was quite urgent."

"Then you knock on the door."

"I couldn't be seen coming to your house. I wasn't certain if you'd been found."

Thea nodded. She turned and faced Alice. "Keep an eye on Hudson, that he doesn't head down to the lake without an adult."

"Okay." Alice understood it was safe now. How, she wasn't sure, but she noted the peacefulness in her mother's eyes that told her so.

"We can talk on the deck." Hetty led him through the house towards the deck.

"Wonderful view you have here."

"How did you follow us?" Thea inquired, she had so many questions for the man who'd scared their daughter. She watched him sit in an old wrought iron chair with a dark blue cushion and get comfortable. She stood beside the railing, her eyes half on their visitor, half on her children.

"I placed a tracking device in Alice's soft toy." He raised his hand in his defence when he saw the rage in Thea's eyes turn her almond eyes to fire.

"I did it for her protection. I followed you here to make sure you were safe and hadn't been kidnapped. Seeing you talking out front on the phone provided me with some relief that you weren't being held hostage."

"Didn't you hear the children playing outside earlier?"

"I've only just arrived, and heard screaming from inside the house."

"Oh!" Thea looked to Hetty who'd taken a seat across the small table from John.

"The last thing I wanted to do was frighten you or your daughter."

"You should have spoken to Stephen before you scared us."

"I wondered over the name change. I'd heard about a G. Callen working for NCIS of recent years. But when I found you, his name had changed."

"Circumstances required it for our safety," Thea refused to tell him anything further.

"I gather Thea is not your real name?"

"No." Thea didn't budge on revealing more.

"Can you reach him?"

"I was just speaking with him." Thea narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

"He needs to know he's in danger."

"From whom?" Hetty pursed her lips, once again her boy was in danger, and she didn't like it one bit.

"The intel I've gathered from within the CIA isn't good either."

"We're not on good terms with the CIA." Thea jutted her chin out, her worry for her husband recoiled inside her stomach and she quickly bolted for the bathroom.

"Oh dear." Hetty stated and knew something more was going on with her former protégé.

"Is Thea ill?"

"I don't believe so. More like worry for her husband." Hetty kept quiet on her suspicions and the smile that wanted to form on her lips.

"What is the intel you've gathered?"

John Callen pulled a thumb drive out of his pocket and handed it over to her. "It's all on here."

"Why have you only now come forward to reach out to your cousin's son?"

"I've only known about him for a few years, after I heard rumours how you had looked after him for some time."

Hetty pursed her lips and nodded.

"I didn't know about you when I worked at the CIA. I worked alongside Clara."

"You were her handler. I knew about you from Clara. You came from Romania like she did."

Hetty raised her brow. "She never mentioned you to me, not once."

"She was very good at keeping secrets."

"Yes, she was." Hetty sat back into her chair and studied the man. Although she could see similar features to Callen, she had to tread carefully.

"Would you mind doing a DNA test to confirm the family link to Callen?"

"I will." John nodded. "I'd do anything for any of Clara's children."

"Callen is the last one. His sister died when she was eleven."

"Garrison told me." Memories of Garrison sobbing for his children tore at him.

"I will take a look at the intel you've brought for us." Hetty had wondered about this latest case, especially if it had been a coincidence their neighbours had been invaded. Now she wasn't so sure.

She wandered inside and quickly returned with her laptop. She sat back down and pushed the thumb drive into the slot.

"Why did you enter the Campbell's home?"

"I needed to insert the chip into her favourite toy, to ensure she stayed safe. I've heard about what happened to the neighbours. I'd seen someone spying in the street prior, and instantly thought they were after Grisha and his family. I went to protect them."

"Then Alice awoke and saw you. Why didn't you stay and speak with Grisha, and explain who you were?"

"It didn't look good to be found inside the house."

"Then why didn't you ring the door bell like everyone else?"

"I should have. I am sorry." He lowered his eyes in shame. "It's difficult to help family when they don't know who you are."

"Yes, it is."

Hetty brought up the files and studied them intently. Her eyes widened at what she read.

"Where is Garrison now?"

"Word of his trade reached me in the CIA. I don't think anyone realised the family connection and I was told about it. How an old KGB Major had been found in the US and was traded to rescue the two reporters. It didn't take me long to realise who they were talking about. So I went to work to figure out a way to find him and rescue him. We managed his escape on route to Moscow. It was easier than we'd expected. We did a swap of another old KGB officer we had in prison. No one would have known the wiser until he reached Moscow and the Russians discovered the truth."

"Who is we?"

"My partner and me."

"Who is your partner? Can he be trusted?"

"Actually, he's a she. Natalia Carston. And yes, she can be trusted. She's my wife."

"That's good to know. Does anyone else in the CIA know about the swap?"

"No." John was certain of that.

"You believe this is revenge for Garrison's escape?"

"I do. And I believe they think his son is responsible for his escape, which has placed him in danger."

"Callen doesn't even know where his father is."

"I know."

For the first time Hetty recognised the guilt John bore over the situation.

"Are we allowed to know where Garrison is?"

"It's been too risky to bring him stateside, but he's safe where he is."

"You still haven't answered my question." Hetty gave him the Gorgan stare, and was impressed with John's unmovable stare back.

"I know. I will tell Grisha and only Grisha."

Hetty nodded. "Fair enough."

"Will you be safe here?" John asked the petite Operations Manager.

"We will be. Unless you were followed?" She arched her brow in question.

"I definitely wasn't followed. I have a pilot's license and I flew here on my own, via a couple of other destinations."

"Good. Because if anything happens to Grisha's family because you placed a tracker in his daughter's favourite toy, you wish you had never been born."

"I understand."

A shadow emerged at the doorway, both looked up and found Thea standing, holding onto Gerald the giraffe.

"I believe this belongs to you." Thea passed the tracker back to John. "Are there anymore of them we need to know about?"

John blew out his breath. "No. Just the one."

"Good. Because you will not place my family in danger again. If anyone else found the frequency, we are all dead."

"I get it."

"Do you?" Thea questioned him again, uncertain this man could be trusted.

"Garrison said you'd be paranoid, a habit from hanging around Grisha for so long."

"I have too much to lose if I'm not."

"Good."

"John has agreed to do a DNA test. We can measure him against Alice."

Thea nodded. "Okay!" Her eyes shifted onto the lawn and watched her three young children run around with the freedom their lives in the US and Canada had provided. She was well aware such wasn't the case for many children living in poverty and in war zones. She wished with all her being that all children near and far could live a safe and happy life, free of fear and danger. She was grateful for Hetty bringing them here, and she hoped they remained safe while her husband and his team worked to resolve the case and the danger that chased them.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

 _Washington D.C._

The flight was short, and relief washed over Callen to be free from the dangers that lurked in Paris. Here, he felt safer, and knew he'd be called into Director Vance's office immediately.

The doors opened and the sunlight was a warm welcome home to stateside. He walked the ramp out of the rear of the Lockheed C-130 Hercules. The name suited the large aircraft, but it wasn't as comfortable than a passenger plane. But they got out of Europe quickly, and that's what mattered most.

McGee met them and nodded to them as they reached the tarmac.

"Welcome back, Boss. Welcome to D.C., Callen, Sam, Deeks." The west coast team nodded back.

"What have you learned?" Gibbs asked his man.

"Director Vance is busy, but Deputy Director Ochoa wants a meeting with you all as soon as you reach the office."

Gibbs scanned their surroundings, wondering why Vance was too busy to deal with their west coast agents.

"Is everything alright, Boss?"

"What's Vance tied up with that he can't see us? Our case is important. Too many of our agents have been killed due to this case already." He was tired and not happy that Vance was too busy to deal with them."

"Since it's an L.A. case, Deputy Director Ochoa leads up their team. You know Director Vance can't be available to deal with everyone."

"Do you think I don't know how busy Vance is? Or have you forgotten how I replaced him while he went missing a while back?" He was frustrated. They gained no answers to their case other than the little provided from their Greek acquaintance. All they knew was that some Russians were after the NCIS agents involved in the Federov case, and two CIA officers looked suspect for the theft, and the burning of their agents. If only he could find them and wring his hands around their necks.

"No, of course not, Boss." McGee looked offended, and wondered why Gibbs had become snappy again.

Callen, Sam and Deeks remained quiet as they let McGee and Gibbs do the talking. They were on Gibbs' turf now, and the pull to return to the west coast strengthened. They needed to continue solving their case. They were pleased to have Deputy Director Ochoa to debrief with anyway. They felt after all they'd gone through in recent times, Ochoa was on their side.

The old multi-storey red brick building brought back memories of another time for Callen. It hit him just how long he'd last visited, when he entered Gibbs' floor and found a new team. No more Ziva David or Tony Dinozzo. His eyes shifted for the elevator that went down to basement where he knew Abby's lab was, and sighed. Abby had left as well, and now only McGee and Gibbs remained. It started with one, then it multiplied. He looked at Sam and Deeks either side of him and knew he had to fight Mosley to allow Deeks back onto the team. They were stronger together.

"Agent Callen." Deputy Director Ochoa called from the mezzanine level above and indicated for him to come up.

Callen climbed the steps and shook his hand. "Deputy Director."

"Glad to have you back safe. Director Vance has given us his office to talk."

Wondering why he was alone on this discussion, he halted before entering into Vance's office.

"Shouldn't Gibbs, Sam and Deeks, be in on this talk too?"

"I will speak with them soon. For now, you and I need to talk alone."

Why did his chest feel like it was about to explode?

"I'm not going to bite." Ochoa gave him a warm smile and pointed to a chair. "Take a seat."

Callen nodded and sat down into the leather chair and looked expectantly over to Ochoa who chose to sit in a nearby seat by the large table.

"Assistant Director Mosley ordered you to get off the jet in D.C. I thought we'd gotten past the rogue behaviour, Agent Callen?"

"I'm not the one to be concerned over, Sir. I was ordered to fly to Paris to question our agents involved in the Federov case. I cannot keep up with Assistant Director Mosley's orders." He knew he was treading a tightrope, but he used it anyway for his defence.

"Well, you are fortunate you made it out of Paris alive. And that Assistant Director Mosley has vanished."

"What?" Guilt washed over him. "How? When?" They were only there a few days ago.

"We're not sure. She fled L.A. with her son. It looks like she's having some trouble of her own since Mexico. Her disappearance does not look to be linked to this case."

"How do you know?" Callen furrowed his brow, uncertain of anything anymore. His world had gone crazy.

Ochoa sighed. "Because she was supposed to answer to the Senate in a hearing yesterday, for your involvement in the rescue of her son in Mexico. She didn't show."

Callen steadied his breathing. "Mosley's done a runner?"

"It looks like it. Between the gangs who have a price on her head and with her career being on the line."

"Right." Callen breathed slightly easier.

"So why am I in here?"

"We need to address the danger you are in. It has reached us that you in particular are on someone's hit list."

"Is this the rumour Mosley talked about to do with my father? Because we both know where my dad is right now, somewhere in prison, either in Iran or Russia, and that's if he's still alive."

"Your father is still alive and a free man, from what Hetty has told me."

A look of surprise washed through him. "He's escaped?"

"With a little help from two CIA officers."

A groaning in Callen's gut had him recoil with worry.

"Not the two CIA officers related to your case. Officers Natalia Carsten, and —"

"Never heard of her."

"—John Callen."

Callen's eyes widened at the second name. "Did you say John Callen?"

"Yes, I did. A relative of your mother's, I believe. Hetty's organising a DNA match with him and your daughter as we speak. Apparently, he was the man Alice saw in her bedroom when your neighbours were raided."

"I don't have any family left on my mother's side."

"He claims to be Clara's cousin."

"I looked for years to find any living family on the Callen side, after Hetty told me about my grandfather."

"George Callen." Ochoa stated matter of factly. "He inspired his nephew and joined the CIA along with your mother. They were close, from what John has told Hetty."

"How—" He thought on the recent call he had from Thea and frowned. "When did Hetty find him?"

"He found them at their secret hideaway. He'd placed a tracker in Alice's giraffe?"

"Gerald." Callen breathed out. Anger flooded through him. He'd been sloppy. He should have checked and believed his daughter. He won't be making that mistake a second time.

"He had no right."

"He did it for Alice's protection. When he found them, he had no idea if they'd been kidnapped and held hostage. Your wife hasn't lost her skills as an agent."

A smirk formed thinking of Thea and her skills as an agent. "That's because she's never stopped training."

"Good. Now you can rest knowing that your family is safe, and from what Hetty's told me, Owen Granger knew him well."

"But he's not here to confirm his story."

"The DNA test will prove who he is. What's most important is that he and his partner, helped your father's escape on route to Moscow. They swapped him for another KGB officer we had in prison. John believes they have discovered the swap and blame you for it. Which is why your life is now in danger."

"I didn't even know my father had escaped. Why would they think it had anything to do with me?"

"It's a logical conclusion."

"It doesn't make sense. I've been hiding under the radar for years as Stephen Campbell. What proof besides the words of a stranger do we have that these Russians are after me?"

The door to Vance's office opened and the Director entered. Callen rose.

"Director Vance."

"Agent Callen. It's good to see you made it home safely."

Callen's eyes darted to the woman who stood behind him and looked confused.

"Agent Callen. May I introduce you to Agent Samantha Wright."

Vance looked between the two and knew this meeting would be interesting.

"Hello, Callen." The French accent was gone, replaced with a typical New York accent."

"You're not French?"

"No." Samantha stepped closer. "But I've lived fifteen years in Paris, it became my home."

He knew exactly when they first met, how could he ever forget? She must have been new to Pairs, going by his memory timeline.

"We were told you left Paris, and that you had some visitors after we left."

"Yes. Looking for you." Her eyes could so easily get lost in those summer sky eyes. "They showed me photos of you and your family in Los Angeles. I recognised Venice beach in the background. You have three beautiful children."

Callen's body shuddered, and an ice cold dread of fear shot through him. "I've been careful."

"You've been burned, Agent Callen. You need to join your family until this is over."

"No!"

"No arguments." Director Vance stared him down.

"You don't understand, Director. I have a job to do. My team work together. We're already separated by Mosley's pride by sending Deeks back to LAPD. With Kensi pregnant, Sam and Deeks need me to work with them. Especially now with Mosley gone."

"I cannot afford to lose another agent."

"If I go to where my family are, I am placing them at risk. It's me they're after. The Russians found us on Vancouver Island. What makes you think they won't find where my family are now?"

"That's because Janvier was involved. He's gone now."

Callen could see there was no swaying Director Vance's decision. He looked to Deputy Director Ochoa for support.

"I'm with Director Vance on this one." Ochoa stood his ground.

"But—"

"I will head back to OSP, Agent Callen. I will lead your people to solve this case." Ochoa hoped he could provide some form of ease for his agent, who'd had people chasing him for most of his life.

"Agent Gibbs and his team will follow and help Agent Hanna and Detective Deeks on this case. Go to your family." Vance's voice softened.

Callen felt deflated. He had a case to work on and now he was being forced to hide. It wasn't the first time his life was on the line thanks to the blood feud the Comescus orchestrated. Then Marcel Janvier and the Russians. Who will it be next?

"It's time to call the others in. I've arranged for a plane. I believe you've kept your pilot's license going since you've been back in Los Angeles?" Deputy Director Ochoa waited for Callen to respond.

"Yes." Callen nodded. He felt like that small boy being hunted again. Why couldn't he be left alone to do his job without the shadows looming over him. But he knew once you were burned, you had to go into hiding, else you placed the rest of your team in danger. This time was no different.

"Good. I'll have Agent McGee drive you to the airstrip. Stay safe, Agent Callen."

"Thank you, Sir."

Callen turned and looked at Scarlet one more time. He struggled to see her as the American she clearly was. Samantha Wright. His eyes gazed back one last time.

"I'm glad you are back safe," he told her.

"You too, Agent Callen." Samantha stumbled on his real name. It had been a shock to discover who he really was, just as she knew it was for him by revealing her true identity to him. But she was home now, and she and Vance had a lot of debriefing to go through.

"We need to get back to our debriefing. Let me know if you need me." Leon Vance told Ochoa.

"Thanks, I will."

"Agent Callen, call Gibbs and your team up here on your way down."

"I will." Callen left Vance's office and ran down the stairs. He met Sam's eyes for a moment.

"Ochoa will see you three now. I've been burned. " He sighed. "I can't head back to L.A. with you. Gibbs and his team will help you, and Ochoa's returning with you to lead."

He saw the confusion on their faces. "Mosley's gone. No one knows where, and she's taken her son with her. Ochoa believes it's nothing to with this case, but from Mexico. She's being hunted."

"Where will you go?" Sam worried about him.

"I'm being sent to be with my family." Callen met Deeks' eyes. "I will take care of your family."

"I know you will. You take care too." Deeks pulled him in for a half hug and stepped back, allowing Sam access.

Gibbs urged the younger men to head up, before he had one last word with his old friend.

"How are you burned?" Blue searched blue.

"The men who visited Scarlet had photos of me with my family. I need to go and protect them."

"How did Ochoa receive this intel? It could be a trap."

"Scarlet is upstairs with Vance. She's not who we thought she was. She's one of us, and American. Her real name is Samantha Wright."

"She still cares for you."

"I know." Callen breathed out. "But she never knew the real me, and vice versa. What we had was years ago. Another lifetime."

"True. But that still doesn't stop the heart from breaking. For either of you." Gibbs pulled him in for a hug and held onto him. "Take care, Callen. I will visit you when we've solved this case and destroyed whoever is after you this time."

"Thanks. I feel better knowing you're helping Sam and Deeks."

Gibbs looked around the office. "McGee. Take Callen to wherever Ochoa wants him to go."

"Right on it, Boss." McGee picked up his keys and headed for the elevator. Callen quietly followed. He turned back before he stepped into the elevator and nodded one more time to his old friend.

"Beregi sebya, drug moy." [Stay safe, my friend.] Gibbs called out in Russian. A sad smile graced his lips, and prayed they all made it out alive again. It came so close the last time Callen had a group of Russian mercenaries after him.


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N: I've reread the three prequels again to freshen my memory of what has preceded this story so far. I hope you enjoy this latest update. Thanks to those who have left reviews for my previous chapters._

 **Chapter 16**

Some people were born incapable of love. Others were born with love overflowing and make the world a brighter place, giving hope to the hopeless. Callen had no memories of the love that he'd been showered with as a baby and young child. All he remembered were the cold loveless nights in orphanages and foster homes. The one foster family who'd loved him were all gone, and somehow he'd managed to outlive them all. They were Russian, and had moved to Los Angeles for a better life. So much for that dream. But they'd given him some sense of belonging, even if it had only been for three months. Then, when life became bad again, the unexpected arrived into his life and she'd stayed ever since.

Henrietta Lang had saved him. There was no doubt about that, and helped him to trust again, and love. She provided the most unlikely family for him, and each and every one of them were like his flesh and blood. Yet, for reasons he can only make sense from being unloved for so long, was that having his own family meant so much more to him. Something he never expected. First of all, Hetty brought Nell into his life, then he found his father. Well, his father found him in Russia when they went to St Petersburg to rescue Arkady.

His father was safe. Those words echoed through him as he flew the small jet westwards towards an unknown location. He was to fly to Lexington, Kentucky, where he'd be given the next destination, and so forth. Hetty wasn't leaving to any chances of Callen being followed. When he arrived, he dialled the satellite phone Ochoa had given him.

"Mr Callen. How is Lexington today?"

"Hetty." He was relieved to hear her voice. "Sunny. What you'd expect this time of year in Kentucky."

"Good to hear. Your next destination is Grand Rapids in Michigan. I look forward to hearing from you again soon."

"Thanks, Hetty."

He felt she was playing a game with him. How hard was it to not tell him where he was going? But as he realised, if he was heading to where his family were hiding, no chances of him being followed could be risked. So for them, he went along with it.

He took off from Lexington and headed north. Patchwork fields dotted the scenery below him. The North Elkhorn Creek dominated with the dark snake like feature in amongst the fields, until it met up with the Kentucky River. He left Kentucky behind, flying over Cincinnati and Fort Wayne, before landing at Grand Rapids. He'd spotted a few lakes towards the end of this flight. Here he would refuel before dialling Hetty. He wondered whether he was going to continue north into Canada. It had served him and Nell well to hide in the North American country until Janvier burned him.

He shook his head at the reality. No more Janvier to cause him strife anymore. No more Kozlov or the Taylors. So who in Russia was after him now? How many more of his father's enemies were out there, hunting the two of them. It was a shock to see the photo Kozlov had in his office of Sam hugging him in Victoria, and then there was the photo Scarlet had told him about with his wife and children. None of them were safe until this next threat was dealt with. But to turn him away from working the case, cut him deep inside his heart. Ochoa and Vance weren't allowing him to work this case anymore. It had become greater than his neighbour's death. Was this case at all anything to do with the Russian Fabergé egg at all? Surely it wasn't another lure to draw him back out into danger? He'd continued to hide under his alias of Stephen Campbell for the next couple of years back in Los Angeles. His youngest was two now, and he prayed they continued to be safe. He shuddered at the thought of his children being targeted. They were children, they should feel safe.

But the truth of the matter was that he'd not been safe as a child. Not since that day his mother was murdered in front of him. His childhood had been taken from him, and his heart ripped into pieces. He would fight for his children's freedom.

Who was he kidding? How could he fight when he was being sent to hide with them? At least he could protect them. He missed them so much.

"Hetty!"

"Mr Callen. How are you doing now?"

"Tired. Irritated."

"You are frustrated Ochoa pulled you from this case. I understand your sentiments, Mr Callen, but your family need you to be safe. Your next destination is Fargo, on the North Dakota and Minnesota border. You will be here with us soon enough. Make sure you drink plenty of water and eat to keep your energy level up."

"Yes, Hetty."

He chewed on the inside of his cheek, thinking. He was staying in the United States for now, but still, he was close to the Canadian border. Anything was possible.

"I hope I am with you soon, Hetty."

Kensi pulled up outside the lake house and stopped the engine. Excitement bubbled under the surface that Thea could be pregnant again. Her second child would have a friend. She found Thea curled up on the bed upstairs, sleeping. Quietly she placed the paper bag on the bedside cabinet and exited the room.

"How is Mrs Campbell?"

"Sleeping." Kensi yawned.

"You too?" Hetty smiled warmly over to her agent who was blossoming once more.

"I can't help it. I'm warn out running after four kids." Her smile widened at the reality soon it could be six kids. Deeks is going to get a kick out of this. Thinking of her husband, her smile faded, and concern for him and the team hinted in her dark brown eyes.

"Marty is well. Safe from Paris and heading back to Los Angeles."

"I only hope whoever moved the body from LAPD isn't on the Russians' payroll and done it by mistake." The thought that someone in her husband's office was dirty made her worry.

"Do not worry about Marty. He has good friends at LAPD to have his back. And something tells me that this snooping Detective Moyles will do the right thing if any harm comes your husband's way. He'll be a good overwatch."

"You're not helping, Hetty. Moyles may not be dirty, but he's trouble for Marty, Callen and Sam."

"Don't you worry about any of them."

"What haven't you told me?"

"Things will be changing back to what they once were."

"Mosley's allowing Marty back to OSP?"

"Assistant Director Mosley's gone." Hetty actioned her hands into a poof motion. Kensi's eyes widened.

"She's vanished with her son. She has bigger problems since Mexico than the Senate hearing she failed to show up to yesterday. Marty is returning to OSP, and Gibbs' team are coming back with our men to help them solve this case."

"Good." The knot in her stomach uncurled and relaxed.

"They are good men. They will be pulled through this."

"What about the threat on Callen?"

Hetty pursed her lips together, thinking. She'd taken him on an interesting journey to ensure he wasn't followed. Only the next destination was known and so if anyone went looking for him, they'd struggle. He was due to call her but he was fifteen minutes late. She frowned and took the satellite phone out of her pocket and stared at it. She was certain he would have left Fargo on time, but now he was overdue arriving at his next destination, Sheridan. A small town in Wyoming which she hoped would dispel the theory he was heading into Montana until the last phone call.

She tried the satellite phone and dialled, walking away from her younger agent. She huffed out a breath when Callen did not pick up the call.

"You can't find him, can you?" Kensi followed Hetty outside the front of the house. She saw the worry in the older woman's eyes.

"Hetty?"

"He's on his way to us but he's already fifteen minutes late arriving at his next destination. I thought sending him on this route it would be safe for him."

"Where was he when you last spoke to him?"

"Fargo."

Kensi pulled out the burn phone Hetty had provided her with and looked at the map. Callen wasn't too far away.

"Where was he supposed to arrive next?"

"Sheridan in Wyoming."

"Why did you send him south?"

"So he didn't think he was coming to Montana." Hetty finally admitted.

"We need to find him."

"He's not responding to my calls."

Kensi studied the map further. "There's nothing much but this lake that runs into the Mississippi."

"I know. Which is why I am worried about him."

"Can you find out his last communications with a flight tower?"

"Good idea, my dear." Hetty dialled her phone and waited for the Fargo Flight Tower to answer her call.

"Hello. I'm looking for a plane that took off from your airport an hour and a half ago." She gave them the details of the small jet Callen was flying and waited for their response.

Kensi shifted from foot to foot, her nerves were getting the better of her. Hetty wasn't revealing anything.

"Do you know where this plane was last tracked?"

"Try the Bismark Tower. Your friend would have headed in that direction before heading south."

"Thank you."

"Hetty?" Kensi couldn't wait any further.

"He left Fargo on time. I have a few more calls to make. Do not let onto anyone else our concerns."

Kensi nodded, her eyes darted up to the second storey window where Thea slept.

It took three more phone calls before Hetty found where Callen fell off the map. Somewhere close to the Custer National Park, north-east of Sheridan. The area was full of mountains, rivers and lakes. She drew in a deep breath and thought about John Callen. She had no choice but to send him to look for her agent. But would Callen take to John since they were still waiting on the DNA to prove he was family?

If only the satellite phone he'd been given was working. Her body felt the worry too easily. That uneasy knot twisting in her stomach.

"I need to speak with John. Can you send him out without giving away anything to anyone."

Kensi hesitated. She needed answers, but the grave look in Hetty's fading blue eyes told her to do as she was asked. Her legs felt like lead as she entered the house and found John on the rear deck, watching the children play.

"Hetty would like a word with you. She's out front." Kensi kept her voice low and sat in the chair on the deck as John left. She blew out a breath and focused on the children. They were the perfect distraction.

"Kensi told me you wanted to speak with me?" He knitted his brows together, thinking this had something to do with the DNA test he'd taken.

"We have a situation I would like to keep between us."

John arched his brow, realising the older woman was entrusting him with something important.

"Grisha was on his way here. His last known location is near the Custer National Forest, he was flying to the south east of the forest, heading for Sheridan. He hasn't made it there."

"I can go look for him. It'll take me an hour to reach the place."

"Thank you, John. That is what I was hoping for. Do you have any medical training, incase he's injured?"

"I do."

"Good." Hetty pulled out another satellite phone. "Use this to call me when you have something."

"I will." John took the large brick phone and headed for the hired car parked out front. His focus remained on Clara's son. He had a chance to do something good for Grisha, and he hoped he found him alive. He couldn't face Thea with the news if it was bad.


	17. Chapter 17

_A/N: Sorry to leave you in shock over the developments of this story. Here is the next instalment._

 **Chapter 17**

 _Los Angeles_

It was like the past couple of years never happened, when Sam entered the old water treatment plant without his partner again. This time, Gibbs, McGee, Bishop and Torres, echoed his footsteps alongside Detective Marty Deeks.

"Oh, man, it's so good to be back." Deeks slid in behind his old desk and swivelled the chair.

"It's good to see you there too. Where you belong." Sam slid in behind his desk and watched Gibbs and his team settle into the bull pen. Eric had been busy organising extra desks for the additional agents for this case. Even without Callen and Kensi, they still required two more desks. He wasn't surprised to see Gibbs settle in behind Callen's and open his laptop.

"I better make an appearance at the station." Deeks dialled his cell and vanished through the back way towards where carpool was.

"Shouldn't he have backup?" Torres looked towards the empty water fountain. "This place is awesome. Wish we had digs like this."

"We can permanently arrange it." Gibbs quipped, searching for something on his laptop.

"You'd get rid of me that easily?" Torres looked offended. He was impressed with the West Coast lair, which he'd heard McGee refer to it as. Something to do with Tony Dinozzo's last visit to L.A.

Gibbs glared at him.

"Okay! Maybe not that easily." Torres looked up towards the Ops Centre. Eric appeared and virtually bounced down the stairs.

"You're back." Eric looked for Callen and Deeks. "Where are the others?"

"Callen's gone to where Hetty's taken the others. Deeks has gone back to LAPD."

"Right. Well, I have been digging and I've found something." He pulled up the information onto a portable screen, like they have in D.C.

"CIA officers, James Dasper and Peter O'Conner, have gone off grid since you were in Paris."

"Why does this appear that they're linked to this case in more than just the missing Fabergé egg?"

"Because," Eric dragged out, "the Fabergé egg was never missing. It was taken to the location your friend in Paris told you about. Another NCIS team with SEAL team 2 entered the buildings where this Syrian terrorist group were hiding out. It's been found safe and it's being transported back to Moscow as we speak. Vance is hoping this gesture of goodwill, will help improve our inter-country relations."

"Let's hope it works, it's not looking good having the Russians after Callen and his father," Sam stated.

Eric gulped. "About that."

"About what?"

Eric looked nervous. "I've received a secured phone call from Hetty. Callen's gone missing."

"What do you mean by missing?" Sam rose from his seat, Gibbs followed and Eric swallowed hard the lump that threatened to choke him.

"Hetty had him fly to various check points along the route to his final destination. His last stop was Fargo." Eric pulled up a map. "She's sent John Callen, a cousin of Clara Callen's, to find him."

"Hetty had no other options. She needs you here to deal with the case. He's not answering any of Hetty's calls. She's managed to keep this information away from Nell."

"Crap!" Gibbs shut his laptop down. He looked to his team. "You work this case. Find any traces of anyone who may be looking at the Campbell's family home, and entered the country recently. Do background checks on everyone until you can be certain they're not linked to this case. I want updates."

"Boss?" McGee looked to Gibbs.

"Do you want us to come with you?"

"No. Thanks. Sam and I have it from here." Gibbs turned to Eric. "Everything you have on Callen's whereabouts, send it to us ASAP."

"I will." Eric ran back up into Ops and went to work on sending it all to Gibbs and Sam.

Gibbs looked over to Sam. "We need a plane."

"I know of one we can use." Thinking of Callen's sea plane, he hinted a smile. "It's been a while since I've piloted G's sea plane."

"It's like riding a bike." Gibbs assured him. Sam led the way out to his challenger and hoped they found Callen soon, before night fell.

"You know Lake Oahe is to the east of Sheridan, which was his next destination. Callen's used to landing on water these days, if he had any trouble, he could have tried to land on the lake."

"Possible. Hetty thinks he flew further north and didn't head south until closer to Sheridan. Look at the flight plan he registered at Fargo."

The men looked at the details, they were in the air now, flying east from the coast and the scenery below was desert. Sam switched to auto pilot to take another look at the flight plan Callen had set forth.

"That was his plan, but you know Callen. With his paranoia, he could have easily diverted further south to shake anyone off his tail."

"Or he had engine failure and went down where John's gone to look for Callen." Sam shook his head. "Surely the jet's beacon would be sending a message out before now?"

"That's what I was thinking." Gibbs' sharp eyes studied the map and took a closer look.

"Let's try Lake Oahe."

Sam turned the plane in the direction required and updated their flight plan. He wished now he'd gone with his partner and not on his own. Guilt washed over him, but orders were orders.

"There it is." Gibbs pointed to the long thin lake that turned into the Mississipi River.

Sam descended the plane for a closer look for anything signs of Callen or the jet he'd been flying. They flew the length of the lake.

"Did you see that?" Gibbs pointed downwards on the right.

"Turn around, go lower this time."

Sam descended as low as he could over the lake, to his left he saw a reflection shining up at him, almost blinding him.

"I'm going to land."

John Callen flew over the region where Hetty Lang believed Grisha's plane went off grid. There were hundreds of tiny lakes or dams dotted over the place, in amongst barren mountain ranges where nothing appeared to grow. It was a difficult task being on his own, piloting and spotting. He descended further, hoping he could find signs of something.

It was the smoke he found first, billowing up from what looked like a fire of some sort. The land around was scorched and he wondered if it was a grassfire. He took another turn and flew over the area again, and his heart pounded heavily in his chest. It squeezed tight when he saw the crash site. Survival of that plane crash was impossible. The plane was smashed into tiny pieces that made the search almost impossible. But his perseverance had him go again and take a closer look. He tried to see if there was anywhere nearby that was suitable for landing, and he found none. The valleys between the mountain ranges were too narrow to fit his plane.

He hit his hand hard on the dashboard. "No!"

He spotted the small road and hope rose for the first time since he'd seen the wreckage. He needed proof this had been the jet Callen had been flying. A number of some kind, and a body.

John landed the plane and swallowed the contents from a bottle of water he had on board with him. He had a mile's walk to the crash site. The sun beat hot on his head, and he found a cap on board. He dialled the satellite phone and waited.

"John. Have you found him?"

"I haven't found Grisha. I've come across a crash site, there's smoke billowing from it. I've managed to land about a mile away. I'll let you know."

"Thank you." Hetty's hand shook from the news John delivered. She wasn't pleased with the results and closed her eyes to say a prayer.

"Hetty?" Thea found Hetty sitting on her own along the jetty, wondering what was up with the older woman.

"Nell." The old name slipped out and she was thankful the children were not around to hear it.

"What's going on?" Thea knitted her brows, studying her.

How could she tell Thea her husband could be dead? Until she had proof, she pressed her lips together and gave her a warm smile.

"The Fabergé egg was hidden with the Syrian terrorist group that Agent Adrian Prior had infiltrated. A Greek security guard revealed its whereabouts to Stephen and Sam while they were still in Paris."

"That's good news." Thea smiled slightly.

"Yes, it is. But it worries me greatly over what this whole case with your neighbours was about? If the Russians knew where the egg was all of this time, it means only one thing."

"This case is about Grisha and his father." Thea didn't slip up like Hetty had done by using her husband's real name. She'd used it on purpose since it was the name the Russians were after.

"I'm afraid so."

"Where is Grisha now? He's not answering the number you gave me earlier.

"Try this number. He has a different satellite phone on him now." Hetty handed the phone to her and walked away. She felt like a coward not admitting that Grisha wasn't answering her calls.

Thea frowned at her old boss. Hetty wasn't behaving in her usual manner and suspected there was more going on than she was letting on. She really wanted to speak with Stephen.

"That's odd. Why would Hetty give me a number and he doesn't pick up?" When she looked for Hetty, she'd vanished, and that had her wondering even more. She tried her own cell, calling another number.

"Thea?"

"Sam. Where's Stephen?"

"Hey. Can you give me a minute, I'm just landing somewhere."

"Yeah, sure." Thea narrowed her eyes. She knew something was going on and it had everything to do with her husband. It wasn't like Sam sounded stressed or worried, he appeared calm. But he had to cut her call short.

The satellite phone rang and she answered it. "Sam?"

"Oh, hi, Thea. It's John. Is Hetty around?" He sounded out of breath, and Thea looked back up at the house.

"Aren't you here?" Thea was puzzled.

"Not at the moment."

"Oh! Well, she's vanished from my view at the moment. I'll let her know you called."

"Yeah, sure." John cut the call immediately and threw up the contents of his lunch. The stench of the burnt out fuel hit the nose immediately. There was nothing left of the wreckage to even search for a body. The plane had exploded into flames before impact. There was nothing else to explain the scene before him. He looked around incase he was wrong. But the large site of where the plane had landed spelled out bomb on board or shot down. This terrified him greatly. If Grisha had been shot down, then someone else was up in the sky watching. He took the photos he needed, and the identification to prove that this had indeed been the plane Grisha was flying before it fell from the sky in a thousand pieces.

"I'm sorry, Clara." John's chest was tight and he leaned over to catch his breath. The dry desert didn't help with the situation he found himself in. Alone and afraid. He walked the perimeter again, taking photos of every angle and going over scenarios. If there had been a bomb on board, would he find body parts, any signs of life that had been taken?"

He needed to find the cockpit seating. He walked what felt like the death march and waiting for Hetty to call him back. What was taking so long?

Finally he found a chair outside of the impact zone. It was burnt, but no signs of Grisha. There had to be a second chair somewhere? He squinted at the surrounding area. How would he be able to find a caramel coloured leather chair in this barren mountain top? He'd almost given up when his phone rang.

"Hetty?"

"John. Have you found him?" She sounded old as she asked him.

"I've found the plane." John's few words echoed around him.

"And Grisha?" She was afraid to ask.

"No. No body. Just a wreckage. I'm sorry, Hetty. It looks like it fell from the sky. Either blown up by a bomb, or someone blew it out of the sky."

Hetty sunk into the chair and gasped.

"There is no sign of Grisha or anyone. I'll send you the photos I've taken."

"Thank you, John." She felt she'd aged two decades in a moment of time. How was she going to deliver this news to Thea, that the plane went down and there is no sign of her husband?

Hetty broke then, when the images John had taken were sent through. She'd tried and failed to keep her boy safe for as long as she could.

Kensi noticed her crumble and ran over to her. "Hetty!" She knelt down and tried to console her.

"I'm sorry!" Was all she could get out.

Kensi looked at her, her own breath rushed out of her. She saw the photos of the wreckage and knew immediately it had been the plane Callen had been flying to come to them. She felt numb. How could she even feel numb? She was numb. Disbelief rushed through her. She couldn't even imagine life without him. He was like a brother to her, and she couldn't fathom how they would continue after this. He was her hero.

Kensi spied movement towards them. "Hetty. Thea's coming. We've got to pull it together."

The older woman pulled herself up and reined in her emotions. Until they had a body, she would say nothing.


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N: I know you want answers on what's happened to Callen. Unfortunately, there are so many things going on in this story, you're going to have to wait._

 **Chapter 18**

Detective Moyles looked up at the now familiar face of Detective Martin Deeks. He entered the office liked he belonged, and he supposed now he'd become accustomed to seeing him around again. But the detective had been absent for a couple of days. That had given him the chance to work on his own without anyone finding out what he was up to.

He was a natural snooper, and he'd found out exactly what Deeks had been up to over the years—working with the Navy with undercover work. So if he'd been so valuable to them, why had he returned so suddenly and for so long?

He kept digging, and from what he'd discovered, someone new at the secret location of this Navy Federal Agents had a run in with Deeks and had sent him back to LAPD. He typed into his laptop and found what he was looking for. NCIS—Naval Criminal Investigative Service. From what he'd found, there were offices dotted all over the country and other locations around the world but none in Los Angeles. The only ones he could find in California where Camp Pendleton and San Diego. It made perfect sense since this Federal Agency was Navy.

But someone needed to explain to him how NCIS took over his case. He rose from his chair and walked over to Deeks.

Marty looked up and wasn't surprised to see Detective Moyles in front of him.

"What is it, Moyles? I'm busy."

"Aren't we all," Moyles replied wryly. "Tell me something, Deeks. Why has NCIS taken over my case, when there is no NCIS offices in Los Angeles?"

Deeks sighed. He looked over to Bates' office and indicated for him to walk with him. He closed the door and leaned against it.

"You're back." Bate looked between Deeks and Moyles.

"Yeah, I'm back." Deeks scanned his eyes over Moyles. "We have a problem."

Bates turned and faced Moyles. "I thought I was clear, you have other cases to work on, Moyles."

"How can you expect me not to want to know what's really going on and where Deeks has been for all this time? He's walked in on my case and basically shipped it off to the Navy." Moyles crossed his arms over his chest.

"It's up to you, Deeks."

Marty nodded. "I still don't like it, but from where I'm standing, he may be the only one in this station I can trust right now, besides you and Varsey."

Moyles pressed his lips together, he knew about Deeks and Varsey, but the latter had said nothing to him when he'd gone snooping previously.

"What's going on?"

"Someone's moved the body from where our witness found him. I want to know why?"

"I didn't touch the body. You saw it where I found it."

"Someone moved it, someone from here." Deeks insisted.

"Could the witness have remembered it incorrectly?" Bates tried to look at it objectively.

"The blood splatter is consistent with her story, and that of the wife's."

Moyles pulled out his notepad and looked at who responded to the 911 emergency call.

"I have Officers Davis and Brown who were the first responders."

"Bring them in." Bates insisted. "I'll give you the pleasure, Moyles."

Deeks shifted off the door and allowed Moyles to do the work. He looked pleased with himself for being trusted. Moyles maybe a pain, but he was as honest as they came.

"I have no options. Someone here moved the body and I want to know why?"

"I do too."

It took half an hour for Moyles to lead the responding officers to Bates' office. They were uniform and were stationed in the floor below, and rarely entered the third floor where Bates' team of detectives worked.

"Lieutenant Bates." Officer Davis nodded to him. "How can we help you?"

"We need some clarification on the crime scene you were first responders to recently. The Harpers."

Deeks laid out the crime scene photos and stood back, watching them both.

"No, this is wrong." Davis frowned. "The victim was on the coffee table where he'd bled out. Who moved him over there and why would you?"

Davis looked to his partner, Brown was very quiet, studying the pictures more closely.

"This is also wrong." Brown pointed to a cabinet to the side of the room. "It was positioned here when we attended the call out."

Deeks met Bates eyes and shook his head. Neither Davis or Brown had moved the body, they were telling them the truth.

"Who arrived to the scene after you?"

"A Detective Isaacs. I've never seen him before, but he had the identification. So we had to let him in."

Bates looked over to Moyles. "Did you meet a Detective Isaacs when you arrived?"

"Never heard of anyone around here with that name." Moyles caught Deeks watching them closely.

"I didn't see anyone I didn't know when I arrived." Moyles shook his head. "This is how the crime scene was when I arrived."

"Why did they move the body and this cabinet?" Deeks stepped forward and took a closer look at what Davis and Brown had told them.

"I have no idea."

Deeks looked to Moyles. "You and I are returning to the crime scene."

"Do you want us to come too?" Davis asked him, clearly it was Detective Deeks who was in charge over this crime scene, not Moyles or Bates.

"Yes. You can help go over how you found the crime scene." Deeks stepped forward, about to open the door. He turned back and faced the officers and Moyles.

"Not a word to anyone. What we are discussing right now is between the five of us. You talk to anyone, it could cost you your life."

He saw the fear wash over Davis and Brown's faces, suspicion with Moyles, which wasn't surprising. But it was this intuition that led Moyles to keep prodding that helped Deeks realise that he wasn't the enemy.

"We need to find out who this Detective Isaacs is too." Deeks told Bates.

"When you're finished at the crime scene, I'll have a sketch artist to work with Davis and Brown."

"Good idea."

Deeks couldn't help but wonder who this Isaacs was. He'd never heard of a Detective with that name for as long as he was a Detective himself. He knitted his brows in concentration as he followed the officers in his SUV, Moyles riding shotgun.

"Nice set of wheels, Deeks."

"It helps with the job."

"I should have taken up the offer of working the cold cases if this is what you're given."

Deeks knew immediately he was fishing.

"I know you have worked it out by now."

"That you've been working with NCIS?"

Deeks merely nodded.

"Why all the secrecy?"

"The team I work with are ghosts. Our office does not exist."

"Well, that explains why I couldn't find an NCIS office in L.A."

Deeks shrugged. "It doesn't mean there isn't one. Don't believe everything you read on the internet."

"As if I don't know that." Moyles quipped.

"Sorry." Deeks turned the last corner. "What the heck?"

The Harper family home was on fire. All evidence of whatever had gone done was destroyed. The two officers stepped out and looked shocked at what they saw. Davis called the fire in.

Deeks moved and grabbed the garden hose from the Campbell family home. He needed to protect their home from this fire. He turned the tap on and started on the house closest to the Campbell's home.

"Get the garden hose and protect the other neighbouring house." Deeks called out to Brown, while Davis started the one out front of the Harper house. "Moyles, take this. Make sure no flames catch on this house."

"Where are you going?"

"Around the back to protect the house from there. There's another hose out back I can use." Deeks moved around the back of the property on the other side away from the fire, jumping the fence. He ran quickly and started the hose from out back. Talk about timing. Someone was suspicious that they'd find something when they entered the house today. The heat burst out the back over the fence, the intensity was strong, and he knew some form of accelerant was used. He dialled into Ops.

"Eric. We have a situation at the crime scene. Someone's set the Harper house on fire."

Eric looked at the camera's Callen had installed outside the family home and gasped.

"Deeks, don't get burnt. Help is on its way."

"I can hear the sirens. Someone's used an accelerant, this is hotter than a usual house fire."

"All fires are hot, Deeks. I'll let the fire department know."

"Thanks, Eric. Is Sam and Gibbs there?"

"They've left L.A."

"What?"

"Callen's missing. They've gone searching for him."

Marty Deeks shook his head, too many things were going wrong.

"Our crime scene's being destroyed. He turned the hose onto his hair and his clothes, he felt the fire and knew he wouldn't walk away from this without at least some hair singed.

"Have they found him?"

"I don't know. All I know is what Hetty's messaged me. His plane fell from the sky. Either shot down or exploded from a bomb. Hetty sent a relative of Callen's mother to find him. He's only just found the wreckage. It doesn't look good, Deeks."

"Have you heard from Sam or Gibbs?"

"No. They've gone off grid."

"Send Bishop and Torres to this location. We have too much to do here."

"Sending them now. Take care, Deeks."

"I will."

"And Eric?"

"Yes, Deeks?"

"Does Thea know?"

"No, she doesn't. But Kensi knows."

Deeks blinked back the tears that threatened.

"Until they find a body, no one is telling her anything."

"Good." He focused then on fighting fire. The first fire truck arrived and more water poured out over the house. His own water supply began to dribble and he turned it off. He bent over, trying to rein in the emotions that pushed to topple him over.

No. He would not accept defeat. He would not accept that Callen was dead. Not now, not ever.

Who was he kidding? How many times had Callen almost been killed? Too many times, and each of those times it had been Sam who saved him. But this time, Sam was with them in Los Angeles and could not save him.

An unusual sound escaped his throat, a mournful sob and grief. He fell to his knees and cried for the brother who he cared about more than most people in this world. He thought about Thea and their children, and how they would push past this loss.

He understood now why Callen and Nell left Los Angeles when they did and started a family. But when they thought all was safe, evil returned, this time they had won.

An inner strength and determination found its way deep within him. He rose from the grass and wiped at his tear and smokey face. He was not going to give up. And he knew that neither would Sam or Gibbs. Until they had a body, a lifeless body, Callen was still alive. He had to be, because he had too many reasons to live. As a husband and father, he knew that too well. He walked back around to the front of the property to where Moyles, Davis and Brown stood, keeping the locals back far from the fire.

"There goes our crime scene." Moyles sounded flat. If only he'd figured out the things Deeks and the NCIS agents had found when they first arrived, and the two officers who continued to keep the locals back from the fire, who'd picked up the anomalies with their crime scene photos. Maybe then he could have discovered the truth before someone had set the Harper home on fire.

"We have a bigger crime scene now." Deeks shook his head. "I have two agents coming over to help."

"The two who were with you the other day?"

A sadness that Moyles couldn't put his finger on, hinted in the usually vibrant blue eyes of Deeks. But now they looked red from smoke and something else he couldn't place.

"No. Two other agents. These have been sent from the D.C. office."

"The case that big, huh?"

"Yeah!" Was all Deeks could muster. He felt the air rush out of his lungs, but he stood there stoically as if nothing was the matter. Instead, his heart was ripping into pieces.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Ellie Bishop and Nicholas Torres were in a sombre mood when they arrived at the Harper home. What was left of it. The fire burnt the house to a charcoal shell in record time, supporting Deeks' conclusion that an accelerant had been used. They found Marty Deeks talking with the captain of the fire crew who had attended the scene. They looked at the shell of the brick home and wondered how Deeks was going to continue working this case after the news reached them about Callen.

Death reached them all at some point. Some earlier than others. It was a shock each time, but it was the nature of the job, and life. But it rattled them too much over Callen's disappearance and how his plane was found. Another NCIS team were sent to Montana to scrape through the wreckage, alongside the FAA, since Callen had been flying at the time of the disaster, and the local law enforcement. NCIS had the FBI wanting in, and they were told to butt out and mind their own business. This was an NCIS case, and they were going to deal with it. The last thing they needed was for the CIA to get wind of Callen's plane crash.

"What do you want us to do now?" Ellie quietly asked Deeks, remembering to go gentle with the detective who was obviously grieving.

"Once the house is deemed safe, we go in and look for a hidden cavity below the tiles in this location. The attending officers, Davis and Brown, they're over there," Deeks pointed to them, "they noticed that this cabinet had been moved from here to here, as well as the body." Deeks showed them on the photos.

"Let's hope whatever was underneath was fireproof."

"Agreed."

The commanding officer, Sam Baker, walked over to Deeks, carrying something that looked like a fire proof safe.

"I believe this is what you were looking for?"

"I hope so." Marty looked almost relieved it was still intact.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. We'll be a while, why don't you come back in an hour, and see if you can get into this safe in the meantime?"

"Sounds like a plan." Deeks handed the safe over to Torres. "I hope you're good at cracking into safes?"

"Do I look like a crim?" Torres looked offended. "Sorry. Bad habit from my youth being blamed for things because I'm Hispanic."

"Callen could break into this easily." Deeks told them matter of factly. For some reason, he needed to talk about his brother. "A skill he learned from living on the streets. And he's not ashamed. It was what it was."

"I hear you." Torres would not make that mistake again by being so easily offended. The L.A. team were a tight unit and he needed to learn to trust them like he trusted Gibbs, McGee and Bishop.

"McGee's pretty good at it." Torres revealed. "We can take this back and see what's inside."

"Good idea." Deeks took one last look at the Campbell house before heading back to the SUV.

"Are you good to get a ride back with the officers to the precinct?" Deeks asked Detective Moyles.

"You're not coming back?"

"I have another office to go to."

Moyles looked over at Torres and Bishop and nodded. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help."

"Thanks. And get Davis and Brown back to the precinct to provide a sketch of this Isaacs. Then you can meet us back here in an hour."

"Sure."

When Deeks entered OSP, he wanted to run back out again. While the office lacked the team he cared for, it felt so wrong to be there with agents from D.C. He shoved the feelings back and focused on solving the case.

"This is going to be more difficult than we thought." McGee told Deeks. "We need a key, and not an ordinary key."

McGee showed him what he was after on his laptop.

"And there's the reason for moving Harper in the first place." Deeks commented. "They needed the key."

"Yes. It's virtually impossible to break into it otherwise, unless—"

Deeks stared back at McGee, waiting for him to continue.

"Unless what?"

"Unless we have something to freeze the lock with and break it."

"We have the perfect freezer." Deeks went hunting and ten minutes later, he returned with a can of air.

"What is that?" Torres looked bewildered by the can in Deeks' hand.

"What the crims use to break locks and steal bikes et cetera. Nothing is safe with this can."

They watched Deeks at work. He sprayed the lock and then lifted out a hammer and chisel from his back pockets.

"Whoa!" Torres stepped back.

"Yeah, it might be a good idea to stand back, kids."

McGee, Bishop and Torres, took big steps back and waited for the impact. With a pair of safety goggles on, Marty Deeks chipped away at the safe's lock and he lifted the lid open with ease.

Inside the safe were multiple confidential CIA documents.

"CIA? Wasn't Harper working for NCIS?"

"Yes. But the two suspects we are looking for in our case are CIA officers, who we believe have gone rogue. No one can find them."

"Right." McGee stepped forward and took the first pile of paperwork from Deeks and scanned it. Bishop took another, Torres and Deeks, sat down and scanned through another pile.

"Found it." Ellie Bishop had finished analysing her document.

"This is an official order from the top CIA Deputy Director Eric Cairns. A hit out on Callen and his father."

"We need whatever we can get on Cairns." Deeks stated, picking up his phone and calling Eric.

"Eric, we need you down here, stat."

"Coming."

Eric flew down the stairs and halted when the Deputy Director of the CIA's face looked back at him from the large screen in the bull pen.

"Why are we looking into Cairns?"

"Because he issued this latest hit on Callen and his father, we suspect he's being paid off by the Russians."

"Crap! Hetty's not going to like this." Eric nervously pushed his glasses closer to his face. A habit Deeks was accustomed to seeing, but McGee, Bishop and Torres watched him closely.

"Neither is Vance." McGee added. "Keep reading everyone, there is a reason why Harper held these documents in this safe, and why he died protecting them. And why he moved next door to Callen and Nell."

"Maybe to protect them?" Bishop wondered out loud.

"Maybe. We need to interview the wife again. Is she still in hospital?" Deeks continued to scan the documents he held in his hands.

"She was released yesterday and is staying with her colleague, the one who called the crime in." Eric advised them. "Can I help?" He indicated to the documents Deeks held in his hands.

"Yeah! Scan all of these documents. Torres. You're coming with me. Send us the address, Eric."

"On it."

Deeks drove like a madman, but two women's lives were at risk. He needed to protect them from being killed by whoever was tying up loose ends.

"Slow down, Deeks. We need to survive this journey."

"You haven't had Kensi drive you yet have you?"

"Who is Kensi?"

"Agent Blye. My wife. This is nothing."

"Right." Torres grimaced. "Must be an L.A. thing."

"You're telling me you don't drive like this when lives are at stake?"

"Our roads aren't as crazy."

"Right." Deeks pulled up outside the home of Rebekah Gaskill and rang the doorbell.

The brunette green eyed woman recognised Deeks immediately.

"Detective Deeks. What is it?"

"Is Audrey with you?"

"Yes, she is."

"We need to move the two of you into protective custody."

"I don't understand?"

"The Harper's home was burned to the ground earlier. Your lives are in danger."

Ms Gaskill nodded. "I'll bring her out. Come on in."

When they closed the front door, bullets ricocheted off the front door, sending them to the wooden floor.

"Is there a way out back?"

"There's a gate to an alleyway."

"Let's move." Deeks pushed forward. He threw the keys to Torres. Meet us out back."

Torres gripped the keys in his hand and knew he had to face the bullets to reach the SUV. He peered outside and found whoever had fired at them continued down the street. He ran with his gun held out front towards the SUV and jumped in. He drove quickly around to the alleyway and found Deeks waiting with the two women. They quickly jumped inside and he drove off.

"Where to now?" Torres was driving in a foreign city.

"Left then right. We need to make sure we're not being followed."

Deeks gave Torres the rerouting instructions until they pulled up outside the boat shed. He turned to Rebekah. "You remember the way in?"

"I do."

"Good. We'll cover you, just in case."

Torres and Deeks held their positions for overwatch while the two women entered the boat shed, before following them. The two women huddled in the corner and relaxed when they saw Deek and Torres enter.

"This is Special Agent Torres from the D.C. office."

"Where are your team, Detective Deeks?" Rebekah remembered Agent Callen speaking with her the last time she was in here.

"Scattered right now. The situation has become complicated." He moved to make the women cups of tea.

"Mrs Harper?"

"Audrey. At least I know my first name is real."

Deeks nodded. "Audrey. Do you know how you ended up living in that house?"

"Jason bought it before our wedding. We've lived there for two years."

"Before or after the Campbells moved in?"

"After. Why?"

"We believe your husband was trying to protect the Campbells. We've found a hidden safe below the floorboards, it was found by the Fire Chief who attended the fire. I'm sorry, but you've lost everything."

"What was inside the safe?"

"Documents. Highly sensitive documents, that prove that the Deputy Director of the CIA wanted Stephen Campbell and his father dead."

Audrey drew in a deep breath and blew it out, all of this was news to her.

"I knew nothing about what was going on."

"Jason died protecting the documents we've found. It holds the proof of the order to kill another Federal Agent."

"Agent Callen." Rebekah stated out loud.

"Yes." Deeks admitted. There was no lying to the woman, Callen had tried to introduce himself, but she knew he was Stephen Campbell.

"Is he safe?"

"We don't know. He's missing and his plane was found in pieces. Either blown up or shot down."

"Oh my—"

"Audrey. This is really important. Did Jason ever tell you anything for you to remember if anything happened to him?"

Audrey nodded. She blinked away the tears. "I kept this at the office. Jason insisted."

She held out the key, the odd shaped key for the lock on the safe that Deeks had managed to break with a can of air.

"For the safe."

"But you've managed to break into it anyway?"

"With a can of air." Torres told her and she looked shocked.

"Let's just say I've spent many years undercover as a homeless man on the streets. It's incredible what you see and learn."

"So the key is useless?"

"It is now. Anything else?"

Audrey thought for a moment. "Jason said that if anything ever happened to him, not to come home. And to speak only to one person."

"Who is that person?"

"Stephen Campbell."

"Right." Deeks sat back in the chair and tapped his fingers on the old wooden table. It all made sense to him. Jason was protecting Callen.

"What did Jason tell you to say to Stephen?"

"To give him the key to the safe and tell him to run with his family."

"Anything else?"

"No." Her voice quivered as her emotions got the better of her.

"Did you think it was strange your husband telling you this?"

"I asked him and he told me it wasn't safe to tell me any more. I thought it was to do with the Navy, not anything else.

"NCIS is part of the Navy, Audrey. Stephen is NCIS and he is in danger. His whole family. Even his three little children."

Audrey wiped at the tears. "I know."

"Can you please go easy with Audrey? This has been hard on her, and she's pregnant." Rebekah asked them.

Deeks and Torres gave each other glances, the woman had survived and they hoped the baby did too. Especially now her husband was dead.

"We're sorry. We're trying to solve her husband's murder."

"After the attack, why didn't you tell Stephen?" It would have helped, Deeks knew this.

"Because I never had the chance to tell him."

"But I did, and I had no idea," Rebekah added.

Deeks nodded. "I know, I was here. It was my partner who visited Audrey in the hospital."

"I'm sorry. I hope you find Stephen alive." Otherwise she knew Jason had died for nothing. She saw the detective's grief in plain sight in his eyes. He looked as she felt.

"It's okay. You did what you could. We now have the documents to prove who is working with the Russians on this. Now we need to know which Russians and why." Deeks had to keep what he knew about Callen's father out of his conversations with Audrey and Rebekah.

"Why would the Russians want Stephen dead?" Audrey was confused and her grief hung heavily on her shoulders, hunching forward.

"That's what we're looking into."

"What happens to us now?" Rebekah sat on the sofa next to Audrey, holding the warm cup of tea in her hands. It may be summer, but the chill of the boat shed seeped into her bones, and the thought of their lives being in danger from whoever was still in Los Angeles cleaning up, as Detective Deeks had told them.

Deeks looked at his watch. "We're waiting on two agents to arrive to take you to a safe house, until we know you'll be safe back at home."

Audrey looked white as a ghost. Beside her grief, she had no home left to return to. She at least had her business, but right then, it didn't look like she could return to work in the near future anyway. Her future looked bleak.

"Thank you, Detective Deeks." Rebekah pulled her friend in for comfort, sipping on her tea, and trying to figure out what to do once they can return to her home, and what to do about Audrey's homelessness and widowhood. And to think at one point she'd been envious of her good friend and business partner. Now she was thankful she was on her own and had only her mistakes to come back to haunt her, not anyone else's.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

 ** _Flathead Lake_**

Thea knew something was up with the way Hetty and Kensi whispered, and the calls Hetty made on her satellite phone. The one time Hetty allowed her to use it that afternoon, Stephen hadn't answered. She narrowed her eyes and hoped that whatever was going on had nothing to do with him. She took a walk along the lake while Hudson was sleeping. Alice and Tristan were being kept busy with Kensi's mother, playing a game of Mouse Trap. She took this time out to think and pray that wherever Stephen was, he was safe. She sat on the waters edge, taking in the beauty of the aqua coloured waters in this pristine lake. When the sun was out, the lake shone like paradise. She felt a peace settle inside of her and she relaxed a little. Stephen was okay. She had to believe it, if not, what hope did she have of the new life that grew inside of her?

She headed back to the house and found Hetty pacing, chatting on the phone to someone and she didn't sound happy.

"No, you can't stick your nose into something that isn't your case. This is ours and you stay clear, you hear me?" Anger vibrated out of the tiny Operations Manager.

Thea frowned. It had been a long time since she'd seen Hetty this upset over something. The last time had been when someone they cared about had gone missing or died. She gripped the railing of the rear deck, her eyes never leaving Hetty's small frame, who had yet realised that she stood there listening into the conversation.

"This has nothing to do with you or your agency. I don't care if you think Montana is out of my jurisdiction. This is about one of my people." Fear for Callen ran deep and when she turned, her eyes widened when she saw Thea standing still. Too still for her liking, and she knew then she'd let the cat out of the bag.

"The FAA and the local police are assisting our agency. We don't need your assistance in this."

A chill ran over Thea's body and she shuddered.

"If I hear anyone from the FBI go near this, you'll be hearing from Director Vance and the Secretary of Defence." Hetty shut her phone off and huffed out her own frustrations. Her eyes met Thea's and she gave the woman a small smile.

"What's going on?" Thea pressed, her hand was white from the vice-like grip she held onto the railing, and it looked like she wasn't letting go anytime soon.

"Nothing for you to worry about, my dear."

"Tell me!" The sharpness in her voice had Hetty looking back and taking a sharp breath inwards.

"It's Stephen, isn't it?"

"We don't know." Hetty cooed, trying to soothe Thea down, for her own sake and that of her young children.

"What aren't you telling me?" Thea stepped forward, her bravado did not wane in the years of motherhood.

"We've lost contact with him."

"What is it that the FBI want in? Why is the FAA involved?" She hadn't missed a thing.

"I sent John out to find him. He was on his way here, he didn't make his last location on time, nor answered my calls." Hetty sadly admitted.

Thea sat down, she felt the air rush out of her lungs and she leaned over.

"I didn't want you to worry until we know for certain he had been on that plane when it went down."

Thea's head lifted. "John's found the plane?"

Hetty slowly nodded. "But no signs of Stephen."

Her heart pounded like it was about to escape and search for her husband on its own. It ached and her blood rushed through her like she was running. She needed to take control over her body. Her unborn child's life depended on her thinking like an agent, not as a wife. No body found. That was something.

"The FBI caught wind of it and are trying to get access to the site. John's managed to keep them out of it while he awaits for a team of our agents to arrive. The local police are assisting him."

"Where did he last make contact?"

"Fargo. He was supposed to have made it to Sheridan in Wyoming, before I told him his final destination."

"What do you think happened?"

Hetty looked hesitant in answering, but Thea was giving her a bit of her own medicine with that Gorgon stare she'd learnt from her.

"Either an explosive went off in the air, or the plane was fired upon by a missile."

Thea went pale then and leaned over the railing to vomit. She hated not knowing what was going on with her husband, and prayed he was safe.

Hetty shifted and placed her hand gently on her shoulder.

"I know he's okay, Hetty. I felt it when I was out by the lake. He's out there somewhere, trying to tell me he's okay." She sobbed then. The strength she'd held onto, failed her.

"Hold onto that hope, my dear. Hold on to it."

 _ **Somewhere over Lake Oahe/Missouri River, South Dakota**_

The sun peeped behind a cumulonimbus cloud, signalling rain was on its way. The gathering of darker clouds sent the summer day into winter in an instant. The chill set in and he shivered. The bleeding did nothing to help him either. He'd ripped what he could from his shirt and tied it around his leg, but those fractured ribs from Mexico were injured again, and he felt it difficult to breathe. His body was going into shock, and this time he was alone. Alone in the world—this was the way he'd always foreseen his departure. He'd begged for the relief, to die when he was only fifteen. Fought any battle he could rally up when he was incarcerated in juvie. This was not a life to desire. But after a chance of escape and recapture, Hetty came for him and loved him. Gave him back his self worth, and now he knew he was loved. He had a father and half sister, a nephew, a wife and three beautiful children to live for. Let alone a partner who'd lost his wife nine months earlier, and the rest of the team.

A tear slid down his face, he wiped at it, marking his face with the mud that was on his hands. He'd managed to pull himself this far out of the water, but the shadows the rain clouds brought with them, did not help his cause. He was going to die here in this mud beside the lake, still attached to the parachute that went haywire before ditching him into the lake. He'd hit the water fast and on a funny angle and cursed it. Now, he laid as bait for whatever wild animals lurked in this area. He'd seen the plane before Fargo, and wondered if he'd been paranoid for no reason. But when the plane continued on his flight path, he decided to divert towards the lake. In an instant he'd seen the flicker of something bright, and that's what sprung him into action. The parachute was close by, and it hadn't taken him long to clip it on before jumping out of the plane. He'd set a new course for the plane and hoped it went down where he'd programmed it to go, where he knew it was a barren wilderness. He'd had no time to plan a better descent, and he was thankful to God that he was still alive. For the moment. But how long could he last in this condition without Sam's first aide skills to pierce his lungs to drain the blood that he knew were filling up.

He coughed that familiar rattle and splutter. He fell in and out of consciousness, unaware of time or day.

"G." Sam forced him to open his eyes.

"I'm seeing the big guy." Callen slurred.

"Open your eyes, G." Sam shook him again. He looked to Gibbs with grave concerns. "He needs a hospital immediately, but we cannot call this through. If whoever shot his plane down gets wind that he's alive, he'll be hunted." Word had come through to them as they were landing on the lake about the wreckage John had found. Thankfully, neither man decided to give up and continued to make their way through to what had caught their attention in the sky. Something bright and shiny, something that could very well belong to a parachute. It was hope that led them to him now.

"Ribs. Lungs." Callen gurgled.

Sam furrowed his brow in concentration, trying to understand the words his partner could hardly muster. His eyes shifted to where Callen's hand went and shook his head.

"Again?"

It hurt like hell to nod his head, and Callen winced.

"Show me where you're hurt, G?"

Sam and Gibbs watched Callen carefully as he lifted his hand to his ribs on his left side, to the small scar left from the last time Sam cut into his lungs and shoved a pen to empty the blood. Then his right leg and his head.

"We're going to get you back onto your plane. We flew the float plane. It's a good thing you landed by a lake."

"In the lake, fast and landed sideways." Callen tried to explain.

"You know better than to land like that?" Sam assessed the area around them.

"Had no time, no warning. Had to get out fast."

"I get it, G. We're relieved to have found you. If it wasn't for this, we would have missed you." Sam lifted the small silver clip from the parachute, and showed his partner.

"Rain."

"Yes, it's rained. Suns out again now."

Callen knitted his brows, confused. He never felt the rain, only the cold and wet from the lake. He must be losing it.

"We have to place you on a back board, just in case you've injured your back again."

Callen nodded. He understood where Sam was coming from, after Mexico, he couldn't take any chances. He was thankful Sam had Gibbs with him to help carry him back to the plane. There was room for him to lie down, and he said a soft whisper of a prayer thanking God for sending Sam and Gibbs to find him. He blanked out again, uncertain how long he was out of it this time when he came to. He recognised the humming sound of the seaplane and relaxed. He was going somewhere safe. Thea. His thoughts now went to his wife and children. A tear slid down his face and quickly wiped it away. He really thought this was it and he'd never see them again. He drifted off again thinking of them, and sending Thea thoughts, hoping she was in tune with him.

 _ **Flathead Lake**_

Hetty's phone brought her out of her thoughts. She had led Thea inside to lie down half an hour earlier. Relief washed over her when she heard Sam's voice.

"Hetty. We've found him. He's parachuted out before he set the plane to crash. He spotted the missile coming his way. But he's injured, like he was in Mexico. His injuries were caused by hitting the water fast and on an angle. He had just enough time to get out."

"Tell Thea he's alive." Gibbs echoed over the phone.

"I will. And thank you for this news. Where are you taking him?"

"Sioux City. It's the closest city with a decent hospital to us with a river to land on."

"Keep us updated."

"Will do." Hetty breathed out the air she'd been holding in and cried tears of joy.

"Why are you crying, Grandma?" Alice stood in front of her, her head angled and an embroidered handkerchief extended out to her.

"Thank you, Alice. They are happy tears." Hetty dabbed at the tears on her face. Thea emerged with that hopeful look.

"Sam and Gibbs have found him alive." She rushed the words out, and sat down on the chair that stood empty beside her.

Thea nodded her head, her voice vacant of any words. She closed her eyes briefly before wrapping her arms around her daughter.

"Who's been found?" Alice pressed on.

"Go and bring a glass of water out for Grandma. She's had a rough afternoon."

"Okay." Alice obeyed her mother's request and pondered over the emotions she rarely saw on her grandmother's face.

"Here, Grandma."

"Thank you, Alice. I'm feeling much better already."

Alice's hazel eyes stared at her grandma, watching her closely. She was seven now and getting closer to her height.

"Why don't you go and find Pearlie and the Big Doll, so we can continue reading it?" Thea suggested to her daughter, who nodded and left them alone, but you could tell the clogs were working, trying to sort out what was going on.

"We need to keep this from the children." Thea whispered.

"Indeed we do. I've let my emotions get the better of me today."

Thea rested her hand over Hetty's. "For good reason too. I'd be concerned if this didn't affect you." She drew in a deep breath. "What did Sam tell you?"

"He had just enough time to put a parachute on and jump into a lake. They found him in South Dakota."

Relief washed through her.

"But he's injured. Same as Mexico, was all Sam has told me. And to tell you he's alive."

"Thank you. That means a great deal to me and to you."

"They're in the sea plane, so they've taken him to Sioux City. We wait until Sam has more information for us."

"Of course." Worry remained in her eyes, although her face brightened when Alice returned with the brightly pink book. She needed the distraction, because it would be days before her husband would be discharged and could be brought here to be with them. Time without him was difficult, and she hoped her children continued to distract her in the meantime.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Detective Marty Deeks' mind was in a whirl. He tossed and turned and only achieved four hours of solid sleep. He needed coffee, and he needed it now. The news that the Campbells' dead neighbour had been protecting Callen and his family, hit home to him. Although they had intel that Callen was being hunted again, there were no signs of a threat to the Campbells in their home. He shuddered at the thought of those masked Russian mercenaries entering their home instead and killed Callen and his family. Memories from Lanz Island where Agent Matthew Dodds held Alice hostage, held poll position in his mind and his heart raced. And Matt had been on their team for five years. His family had been held hostage to force Dodds' hand, and the terror that it could have been any one of them placed into that position rocked him deeply.

He'd held conversations with Sam on this matter over the years since, and every time Sam returned with, "he had a chance to talk to me, tell me about the situation, but he didn't."

Sam was wise, Deeks knew, but he never told the big guy just how much his words of wisdom and encouragement meant to him. To be welcomed into the team and treated like a brother, had meant the world to him. And each time one of them was in danger, he fought like a bat out of hell to help protect them. This time was no different.

It provided him with some relief that his wife and son were safe and far away from Los Angeles. It meant that he could focus on his work and not worry about them. But he still worried about Callen. Someone in the team always appeared to in danger.

"Callen's safe." He said over and over in his mind. He's alive and far away from danger. If danger did find him, he had the confidence that Sam and Gibbs would protect him.

He entered the old water treatment plant at six in the morning and unlocked the door, switching the alarm off. The sky was brightening outside, and he switched on the lights to show him his way inside the deserted building. His footsteps echoed along the tiled floor and he stopped at the bullpen, framed by patterned iron trellising. This had been his home for so long, and three months later, he missed this place so much. It was more the people than the place that he felt deep in his heart, and it felt wrong to be there without any of them. Even Eric who was usually perched upstairs, he missed just as much as the others. His eyes shifted across the vacant area that separated their desks with Hetty's and he sighed. How many times had they seen her desk empty of recent years? They couldn't fool themselves to think she was Yoda and live forever. Even if she'd defied death on numerous occasions.

His eyes lifted up to the recent addition of Mosley's office, the low ceiling darkened their bullpen and sighed. Mosley had vanished with her son, that meant that Shay wasn't around to kick him out. There were some blessings in this situation at least. He needed Deputy Director Ochoa to reassign him back to OSP permanently, and he'd be happy. He belonged here. So why, he wondered as he opened his laptop, why was he contemplating opening up a bar to work in, instead of this place where he considered it home?

The shrill of his cell phone brought him out of the morning cobwebs of his brain.

"Deeks."

"Where are you?" It was Detective Shane Moyles and he sounded too awake to have slept last night.

"At work."

"I know you're not at LAPD. I'm there now. How soon can you arrive here?" He sounded excited, almost out of breath.

"I can be there in twenty."

"Make it ten." Moyles disconnected the call, and Deeks snapped to attention. He had to move quickly. Ten was pushing it, and he had to lock up OSP and set the alarm, his reason for adding time onto his eta with Moyles.

"Crap." He slammed his laptop shut and bolted for the door. As he went to open it, Deputy Director Ochoa entered, giving them both a surprise.

"Detective Deeks. What are you doing here at this time in the morning?" He double checked the time of his watch. He'd caught an early flight to Los Angeles, with the hope of getting in early to catch up on work before the staff arrived.

"I've just received a call from LAPD. A detective who was working the Harper case before it was handed over to us. He has something and wants me over there ASAP."

"I'll come with you. Just in case it's a trap."

"You believe whoever is behind this would even know about me to lure me there? It's where Assistant Director Mosley sent me back for the past three months."

"If this involves development on our case, then yes. We cannot take any chances, especially after the attack on Agent Callen in one of our planes."

Deeks nodded and switched the alarm back on, locking the old wooden door behind him. "I'm driving."

"Good idea, considering you know Los Angeles better than I do."

Deeks drove it in ten minutes and pulled his SUV into the LAPD parking garage. He used his security card to access them into the elevator for the third floor.

* * *

His blurred vision blocked the view of his surroundings, but the beeping of the heart monitor was familiar. Memories returned to him in an instant: the quick escape from the plane and his bad landing into the lake. Callen failed to sit up when he realised a halo pinned him on the bed. He began to panic.

"Take it easy, G." Sam soothed his partner. "You've got to stay still."

"Thea!" Callen's voice was rough from a dry throat.

"They're safe where they are. You just focus on getting better."

Callen drifted back into a deep sleep again without much effort. Sam's eyes remained on his partner until his breathing slowed.

"He'll wake up when he's good and ready." Gibbs entered and handed him a large cup of black coffee.

"Thanks." Sam lifted his cup to salute his colleague. "He's already woken up. He's just fallen back to sleep again."

"That's a good sign."

"Is it?" Sam's own frustration rushed through him. "Does he look like he's going to be okay to you?"

Leroy Jethro Gibbs squeezed Sam's shoulder for comfort. His eyes darted over his longtime friend, his own worry evident in his eyes. "It's a precaution. It doesn't mean he'll be paralysed."

"This isn't the first time. He was lucky before," Sam complained.

"You have to be patient with these kinds of injuries. He's alive and receiving the best medical care for now."

"When's he being moved to a larger hospital?"

"He's not in the condition to be moved again for the time being. Trust the staff. No one's going to know he's Agent Callen in here. He's Stephen Campbell—husband, father, and pilot."

"But whoever followed him—"

"Hetty has someone ensuring only our people and the FAA enter the crash site. Not even the FBI are allowed access."

"Is Hetty playing along with his death in the crash?"

"I believe she's swaying to the theory that he's missing in action. Callen's smart. He escaped with a parachute and landed in a lake. He couldn't have planned it better."

"But he fell too fast and landed on a strange angle. You saw his condition." The intense lights reflected off the tears that Sam tried to hide.

"At least he didn't fall onto land. You know he has a good chance of survival, Sam." Gibbs sighed and sat in the vacant chair in the room. "Callen's stronger than most people we know, he'll pull through again."

"I can't afford to lose him."

"We're not going to."

* * *

"Mom, what are you doing?" Alice stood in the doorway of the bedroom where her mom and younger brother, Hudson, slept in this large wooden house that sat high overlooking the lake. The sun streaked through in rays and lit up her mother while she kneeled down next to the bed.

Thea lifted her head. The tears streaked her face and she wiped them from her face. "I was praying for Dad to return to us soon."

"You're crying." The questioning she'd bombarded them with at age four weren't so many at seven.

"Yes, I am." Thea rose to her feet and wiped her wet hands over her skirt.

"You looked like an angel with the sun on your head."

"Did I?" Strange, Thea noted. She hadn't noticed the morning sun on her head. It was a new day and she'd spent the night worrying for the greater part on who had tried to kill her husband.

"Is it dad you're worrying about?" She'd figured something with her grandma the day before, and witnessing her mother's tears this morning, she began to draw the threads of the puzzle together.

"Yes." Alice wrapped her arms across her body and held on tight. "Dad will come home. I know it."

"Yes, Alice. He will." She blinked back the tears and gave her daughter a watery smile.

"Where are your brothers?"

"They're with Aunt Kensi and Zander."

"Good. Let's have some breakfast." Alice took her hand and led her downstairs, eager to start the day.

Kensi's eyes met her friend's as she entered the dining room. Pancakes and waffles stacked high on the table. "I was hungry and couldn't wait." Her mouth stuffed like a squirrel made Thea laugh.

"I wish I could take your photo right now and show Marty."

Kensi blushed. "You wouldn't?"

"I would if I could." She sighed and sat across from her. Her eyes darted over to her youngest. Hudson and Zander, were chatting in their own babble. They'd warped the English language into something of their own, although capable of conversing in English with any of them. What amazed her the most was how much they appeared to understand each other in amongst the gibberish.

"They've been like it all morning." Kensi smiled over to her, her eyes shifting to her two-year-old son, and realised that when their second child arrived, he'd appear older.

Thea frowned. "I hope this doesn't delay them in their speech."

"It's not all the time." Kensi reminded her. She didn't see it a problem at this age, but then again, Thea was accustomed to having Alice, who was talking fluently at an early age. Tristan was quieter than Alice, but he would make an incredible scientist one day. This was evident from observing him and how much nature enthralled him.

"Perhaps Hudson and Zander are more like their dads," Kensi added.

Thea smiled. "You know, you're right. I shouldn't be worrying or measuring him against his siblings. Thanks, Kens." She settled back into her chair and focused on breakfast. A smile hinted at her lips, Stephen had wanted a son that was a spitting image of him. She remembered when they were at the hospital in Queen Charlotte.

*"A boy! Just like me." *

Thea shook her head.

"What?" Kensi asked curiously.

"I'm just remembering something Stephen said in Queen Charlotte about Hudson. When we had no idea what we were having, he was convinced it was a boy, just like him. Maybe he got his wish after all." Her eyes darted back to her youngest with his fair hair and cerulean eyes and smiled.

Thea searched for her older children, who'd grabbed their breakfast and sat out on the rear verandah before she continued.

"But he's not going to follow in his footsteps in his profession." She shuddered. Why did it affect her so much at the possibility that her children could end up becoming federal agents like them?

"It still bothers you."

Thea looked puzzled at Kensi's comment.

"You had that look when I placed my kevlar vest on Alice. You didn't want her to wear it, or become an agent."

Thea flushed. "It hit me unexpectedly. I'd become accustomed to us living a normal life, you know?"

"It's okay, Thea. I get it. Really I do. Marty's been talking about it since Zander came along. Seeing you two live a normal life away from the action, you made it look enviable."

"I wish we could live our lives without having to go into hiding all the time, but there's always someone out there lurking, ready to pounce like a cheetah."

"Now that's a great analogy." Kensi gave Thea a warm smile. "I can understand why you no longer want to hide, and wanting to be yourselves again." It had been different for her and Deeks, they'd always been able to be themselves to a point, even if she had to lie about what she did for a living—it was different for Deeks, being a cop.

Her mom had been an amazing help with Zander. She was enjoying this restful time with her son, knowing their lives would become crazier with a second. Yet part of her yearned to be out there with the others, protecting the innocent, and fighting the bad guys. It was in her veins and she couldn't help herself. However now, Marty was talking about setting up a bar, a safe venture so one of them wasn't being shot at every day. After that time of normality for Callen and Nell, she was starting to agree with him. But could she ever hand in her badge and walk away?

"I prefer our lives as a family, even if the names are different. Stephen's enjoyed having a name he could call his own, even now that he has his real name." Worry washed over her face, thinking of Callen's father, wherever he now was.

"I'm sure he's safe where he is. It's a good thing John approached you, otherwise, you'd be worrying over him even more." Kensi noted the change in her friend and suspected it was to do with Garrison.

"But if Stephen doesn't know where he is, why would anyone suspect him to be responsible for his escape? I hate him being hunted again." It was the story of Callen's life, but she wished with all she had, that whoever was after him, stopped or died of a natural death, leaving him alone.

"It doesn't look like his alias has been burned." Hetty entered and poured them a cup of peppermint tea. "I've finished a phone call with your husband, Mrs Deeks."

Kensi met her boss' eyes and held them. "How is he?"

"He sends his love and will call you later. He's extremely busy with Sam and Gibbs protecting Stephen. Running OSP currently."

"Wow!" Thea's eyes widened and smiled at that. "He'd like that."

"That he would." Henrietta smiled warmly to the two younger women before her. "He's been too busy to think about it, and Deputy Director Ochoa landed Los Angeles this morning."

"Surely he's proven he deserves to return to the team, Hetty?" Kensi looked worried about their future.

"I agree with you. But that decision is no longer mine to make." A sadness fell in her eyes and both women understood why. Ever since the Mexico fiasco, her superiors have held short reigns over her. She was fortunate to still have a job.

"I'm sure after this latest case things will settle the way they should." Thea attempted positive thinking.

"I hope so. I miss him when he's not at OSP."


	22. Chapter 22

_**A/N: Apologies for the slow updates. I am in the midst of writing a couple of novels at the same time. I hope you enjoy this update. Thank you to all who have left reviews for this story so far.**_

 **Chapter 22**

Time blurred. As far as he knew, it was still the same day he jumped out of the plane for his life. His blue eyes blinked to adjust to the light. He attempted to turn his head and was pleased he could move it slightly. Even a little was a victory for him. Sam laid out on the armchair with his legs spreading out on the floor, and his arms crossed over his chest. His head rested on his right shoulder.

He should have looked peaceful, but he looked pained. Under the shadows of night, he allowed his grief of losing his wife, haunt him. During the day, he was efficient in locking his emotions away. He murmured Michelle's name a few times, and Callen felt for the big guy. Tough on the exterior, soft on the inside. That was Sam Hanna to a tee.

Large brown eyes met his blue, and he'd been caught watching him.

"Stephen." Sam stretched out his limbs and shoved the cobwebs of sleep from his mind. "You're awake. How are you feeling?"

"Disorientated. How long have I been asleep?"

"Longer than Sleeping Beauty. Disney was about to rewrite the story to rename it, Stephen Beauty." Sam chuckled, pleased to lighten his spirits after the nightmare that took hold of him earlier.

"Ha! Ha!" Callen responded, knowing how good it was for this banter. "Mock me now. But I know you worry over me."

"That he does." At that moment, Leroy Jethro Gibbs entered his room. "I thought I heard talking." He gave him a warm smile, reaching his paler blue eyes.

"The doctor should be on his rounds soon. He'll be pleased to see you awake." He studied his younger friend further.

"You're in pain."

"No kidding." He clenched his teeth.

Sam pressed the button beside Callen's bed, alerting staff. A nurse entered within a minute of the button being pressed and saw the patient awake.

"Mr Campbell. It's good to see you've returned to the living." Immediately she took his blood pressure and temperature, noting them down on his chart. "Dr Harrison will be with you soon." She lifted her watch to take a closer look. "Sooner than I thought."

As if on cue, Dr Harrison entered Callen's room.

"Hello, Mr Campbell. Welcome back."

"How long have I been asleep?" All these jokes were grating on his nerves, he had no sense of humour left in him from the pain he was enduring.

"Three days."

Callen's eyes widened at the news.

"Now you're awake, we can send you to radiology for more tests. See how your spine is healing." Dr Harrison assessed Callen and noted the pain. He turned to the nurse. "What's the amount of morphine he's receiving?"

"5mg/hour."

"That should be helping." He looked at his patient and knew he was in considerable pain still. "I'll contact radiology and get Mr Campbell in for his MRIs immediately. I want to know what's causing him this much pain."

"Mr Campbell. We're going to give you an inhaler of Methoxyflurane to help you manage the pain. You inhale when you need it."

Callen blinked a few times, thankful for the additional pain relief. The nurse rushed out and within five minutes, she returned with something long and green. It had PENTHROX written in large letters and Methoxyflurane in smaller letters underneath. He took it into his mouth and inhaled. He held a vice-like grip on it, not letting it go out of his hands.

"You can relax your hand, Mr Campbell. If you drop it, either one of your friends can help you with it, or you can press the button for one of our staff to assist you."

"Thanks." Callen cleared his throat, it was dry and wondered how he was going to drink water lying down.

"Mr Gibbs?"

Jethro looked over to the nurse. "Mr Campbell is in need of some ice chips to suck on. They will be found in the ice machine just up from the nurses' station."

Gibbs nodded and walked out of the room. He headed towards the nurses' station and quickly found what he was looking for. His eyes scanned the area, and he was thankful there wasn't anyone behaving in a suspicious manner. Callen was safe. He had to remember that—but seeing how badly hurt Callen was, it hit him with full force. He'd been too busy worrying over him to allow the situation to really sink in. Just how close he came to being killed. His quick thinking and action, not only saved his life but others. From the information he'd gathered from Hetty, the plane had come down in an isolated area. But who had followed him, worried him the greatest. He knew what it was like to be hunted for the ghosts of his past, killing the man who killed his wife and daughter. He'd lived with it, and for thirty years, managed to keep this information quiet. Now it was out in the open with his team, he still waited for someone to come out from the shadows and take his life, or worse, arrest him.

He gathered the ice chips and made his way back to Callen's room, handing one over to his mouth. "This will help."

Callen blinked a couple of times in thanks. The movement was restricted with his head as it was, and he suspected, painful for Callen to nod. He was lucky to still be alive.

Gibbs looked over to Sam. "Want a coffee?"

"Sure. Thanks." Sam looked guiltily over to his partner. "Sorry. Nil by mouth." He pointed to a sign, and Callen fisted his hand with annoyance. He arrowed his brow in confusion over why he wasn't allowed anything by mouth.

"Just in case they have to rush you into surgery. They wanted you conscious before they did the scans."

"Couldn't they put me through it while I was asleep?"

"They did, they want further scans to check on how you're healing, and to see why you're in so much pain. You've had us worried." Sam held in the emotion that wanted to roll over in his stomach. He had to stay strong for his partner.

"I had me worried. I thought that was it for me. I didn't expect you to find me." His gratitude for the two men who stood beside his bed, brought the emotion out in his eyes. He blinked the tears away.

"It's a good thing we know you as we do. We suspected you'd be looking for water."

"You needed water to land my seaplane."

"Yeah, we did." Sam gave him a warm smile, reaching his eyes, and hiding his own worries.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." Sam sat back down into the armchair while Gibbs left them alone for a few minutes. After Gibbs returned, he would need a walk to clear his head and make a few phone calls.

Gibbs placed the order for coffees at the cafe downstairs and sent Hetty a message. As soon as he'd sent it, his cell rang.

"Hello." He suspected it was Hetty, the timing and the fact the number was untraceable, told him that.

"How is he?"

"He's awake, in some pain still even with the morphine. The doctor's organising MRIs, so we'll have more of an idea what we're dealing with."

"Call me once you know."

"I will."

"Any word on who did this to him?"

"Not yet. The FBI has agreed to stay out of our business, finally. But I've had someone from Langley wanting information over who it was."

"They're hunting for information. What did you tell them?"

"That one of my agents are missing."

"Who called?"

"It wasn't Cairns. He's too clever for that." Hetty huffed out a heavy breath with her annoyance.

"Has Eric done a search on the missing CIA officers regarding the case?"

"He has, and so far, no luck. But that doesn't mean…hang on. I believe Mr Beale is trying to get in touch with me." Hetty hung up, and quickly answered Eric's call.

"Mr Beale?"

"Hetty!" He sounded breathless. "You're not going to believe who I found leaving Fargo soon after Callen?"

"Enlighten me, Mr Beale."

"Borya Lebedev and Kazimir Goncharov."

"Our two missing CIA operatives, officers Dasper and O'Conner."

"Bingo! You've won the hamper."

"I wish it was that simple, Mr Beale. Where are these operatives now?"

"They were last seen hanging around the area near to the crash site. They've been attempting access for information about Callen. John Callen sent me the images from his phone."

"He's been in touch. That is good. I gave him your contact details. I'll give him a call."

"Deeks and Deputy Director, Ochoa haven't been heard from since they went undercover three days ago. Should I send out a search party?"

Hetty looked at the time on her watch. It was seven o'clock in the morning there, and the sun was rising over the mountains to the east of the lake.. "Please, Mr Beale."

"I'll let you know how I go."

"Thank you, Mr Beale."

Hetty wanted to scream. Too many of her people were spread too far apart and going missing on her. She needed to calm her nerves down and practise yoga by the lake as a distraction. It'd been three days since Callen had been found alive, and when her detective and Ochoa had left the mission for LAPD. Then they had gone undercover to find this so-called Detective Isaacs who'd moved the body in search for a key and hidden safe that had been found after the house had been torched. Worry for him and Ochoa remained until she knew they were out of the woods. She had two pregnant wives and four young children who needed their husbands and fathers to return alive, let alone Deputy Director Ochoa's family.

CIA officer, John Callen, continued to search the crash site with the team of NCIS agents, FAA investigators, and the local Police. He'd found evidence of a missile, and from the information passed onto him from Grisha, it matched his findings. Now, the two operatives were trying to gain access to the crash site. They'd seen him there and wondered his involvement. He told them to go home, this had nothing to do with them. The last thing he wanted was to spook them that he was onto them. But they pressed, and this annoyed him greatly.

"This is an NCIS investigation. You know how Miss Lange feels about other organisations butting into her business."

The two men had heard rumours of the old spy who'd once upon a time, worked at Langley.

"Why are you here?" Dasper pressed.

"I happen to come across the crash site. I called it in. Now get lost, or find yourself behind bars for obstruction to a crime."

They saw his annoyance, his cerulean eyes turn to ice. James Dasper smirked as they turned to walk back to their hired SUV. Cairns wanted proof G. Callen was dead. He was a Russian spy and needed to be exterminated. That's what Cairns told them, and they believed him. The fact that John Callen was at the crash site, was the proof they needed. He looked angry to see them, and it satisfied him that they had been successful in terminating the Russian.

"Did you see the rage boiling inside? Cairns said John Callen would be affected by this. It's no coincidence them sharing the same surname." Dasper's smirk turned into a broad grin and chuckled.

"You sure he's not on Russia's side too?" O'Conner asked him, worry seeping through the cracks.

"Cairns never said, only that this crash would affect him. There used to be another Callen who worked at Langley. A Clara Callen. Rumour has it, she and John were cousins, and that this G. Callen, was her son. She got caught up with a Russian and had two children. The daughter is dead, and now, so is the son." Dasper felt pleased with their successful mission.

"The Russian connection. What about this Russian?"

"A KGB Major. What about him?"

"Where is he?"

"The last I heard, the Americans traded him with some reporters with Iran. He was being sent back to Russia as a traitor."

"Interesting. So if the father was a traitor, why was the son a spy?" This had Peter O'Conner analysing their actions. Something didn't sit right with him. But orders were orders, he had to obey, even though the CIA were banned from operating on U.S. soil. They could pretend they thought they were in Canadian airspace as an excuse if it came back to haunt them later. But still, a fellow Federal Agent was dead because they'd shot a missile at his plane. There was no threat made on them by G. Callen either to say the plane was shot down in defence.

"I don't know. All I know was that Cairns said to hide the Faberge egg in Paris with the Syrians, and to kill any NCIS agents we worked with on the Federov case to draw Agent Callen out from hiding and make it look like the Russians were after anyone involved in the case. It worked and now he's dead. Our job is done here."

Peter O'Conner looked out at the wilderness landscape and held onto the vomit that wanted to leap out of his throat. They'd killed an innocent man, a man who was one of them. He remained silent on their return to the airstrip where they'd left their plane. Sometimes he felt they went too far on the job and thought about moving agencies. But if word reached any of the other agencies about his involvement in Agent Callen's death, then he'd have no hope of being accepted anywhere. His future looked bleak, and he wondered what to do about it.


	23. Chapter 23

_A/N. Apologies for the slow updates, life has been busy. Thanks for keeping with this story and for those who have left reviews._

 **Chapter 23**

Detective Marty Deeks thought his homeless days were over. Nope. Nada. This homeless man continued to live on. For the past three days, he'd worn the same old unwashed clothes that he kept in a locked bag, to retain authenticity. It was time he washed this old grey coat, or get a new one from the local thrift shop.

"Do you have eyes on our suspect, Deeks?" Deputy Director Ochoa fiddled about with the fresh produce out front of his supposed grocery store. They'd paid the owner enough to convince him to hire Ochoa for the week. Three days into the job and Ochoa felt like the teenager he'd once been, working hard with very little pay to show for it. But it had gotten him through high school and college, while his parents struggled to make ends meet. He'd learned from an early age the importance of hard work, and it had helped him reach high goals with his career.

"Oh, what beautiful eyes you have," Deeks called out as if he was in a Shakespearean play.

People who walked by thought he was drunk. The coat was doused in rum, assisting him with his cover. They gave him a wide berth, but Deeks only had his blue eyes on one man. The man Detective Moyles had found to be their so-called suspect, the fake Detective Isaacs. The man had falsified his identification to gain access to a crime scene, and moved not only a dead body but also furniture, in his hunt for a hidden safe. The fact that the Harpers' home had been burned to the ground with accelerant, proved the man had failed to find what they knew to be the proof of Eric Cairns' hunt for Callen and his father.

"Get lost, will you?" The so-called Detective Isaacs shoved Deeks away from him.

"Hey, don't shove me." Deeks slurred back. "All I'm after is some money for food, man."

Their suspect shoved Deeks back against the wall of the building he stood beside, pinning him to it. "Keep your dirty hands off me."

"Who are you calling dirty, Detective Isaacs?"

The man jumped back as if burned. He stepped into the hands of Ochoa, who locked his hands into a pair of handcuffs.

"You're under arrest for posing as an LAPD detective, and for disturbing a body and a crime scene. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you? With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?"

"What are you talking about? You're crazy! Get me out of these." He wrestled with the cuffs and Ochoa, who held him firmly against the brick wall.

"We have witnesses who have seen you enter a crime scene with false identification. You'll come with us to answer a few questions over the death of Jason Harper."

"Who?" The man's expression reddened and looked shocked at the accusations. "I don't know anyone called Jason Harper."

"That's funny, because, I bet we'll match your fingerprints to his body and the crime scene."

"You won't find any."

"Really?" Ochoa flipped him around to face him. "Perhaps the latex gloves you threw into the garbage bin outside the Harper family home might help us instead."

The suspect paled, realising his mistake.

"Cat got your tongue now?" Deeks was thankful his time as a homeless man was over. He needed a new coat, and he was going to burn this old one as soon as he could.

"You're not drunk." The man frowned at Deeks' perfect speech.

"No. Not a drop of liquor will be found in my body." He showed him his pearly white teeth from under the fake rotten teeth he'd been wearing. He was going to have a shower as soon as he could, to get rid of the smell.

"We need answers as to why you falsified an identification to enter a crime scene and moved a dead body and furniture. What were you looking for?"

The man remained silent, he realised he'd been caught out, but he wouldn't go down as a snitch.

"Oh, you think you can play hard?" Deeks moved in close to allow the stench of stale gin to get right into their suspect's nostrils. "You haven't played with us yet."

Ochoa shoved him forward to the parked car in the alleyway. Finally, they had their suspect and hoped they gained answers to who he really was, what he was looking for, and who sent him.

"Oh, Deeks!" Agent Nick Torres moved away from Deeks as he entered the boat shed. "What did you fall in? A fish stall?"

"That," Deeks removed the coat and threw it over at Torres, narrowly missing him, "is my undercover homeless man's coat. It's to make it authentic."

"You need a new coat." Torres looked at the coat as if it was a viper.

"That I do. But first, I need a shower."

"No kidding."

"Torres. You're in with me." Ochoa called out to him, and he followed the West Coast leader into a small barren room. Other than a wooden table and metal chairs, the room had no paint and he missed his digs back east.

Eric appeared on the large screen in the boat shed. Ellie Bishop and Timothy McGee rose from the sofa to look at it.

"Hey, is Deeks around?"

"He's having a shower."

"I don't blame him. Have you smelt his coat?" He saw the looks on their faces and realised they'd answered his question.

"Forget it. Where's Ochoa?"

"In the interview room with Torres."

"I have ID our suspect."

"And?" McGee raised his brow in anticipation.

"He's CIA."

"What?" McGee and Bishop answered in unison.

Eric brought up the details. "Meet, CIA officer, Shane McGuire. There is no doubt he's under instruction by Eric Cairns to find out the intel Jason Harper had on him."

"Have we found Harper's real identity yet?"

"I'm still working on it."

"Why is it taking so long?"

"Red tape. I cannot access Langley, and there is nothing from NCIS' records on who he really was."

"Do you have a photo of Harper?"

'I do." Eric brought it up onto the screen, Ellie and Timothy studied it.

"What is it, Ellie?"

"Doesn't he look a little bit like Callen to you?"

"He does." McGee agreed.

Eric shook his head. "Why didn't I see the resemblance?"

"I bet Callen did." McGee continued.

"Let Ochoa know about McGuire. I need to call Hetty about Harper."

"Sure."

* * *

Hetty felt the inner peace return to her after her forty minutes of meditation and silence, from the events of the past week. If only her life could continue like this. But it didn't' matter even though she'd decided to retire, she would continue to worry about Callen and the rest of the team just the same as if she was still working for NCIS. She remained every bit in their lives, and so she stayed put in Los Angeles where she could keep a close eye on them. Which she had for the past two years since Callen and Nell returned to their lives. She'd loved every minute she's had with them and their children, and prayed she had many more years to come to enjoy watching them grow.

The shrill from her satellite phone pulled her from the quiet.

"Mr Beale."

"Hetty. Did you notice how much Jason Harper looked like Callen?"

Hetty knitted her brows together in thought. "No, I had not."

"Bishop noticed it. I see it now. Is there a possibility he's related to Callen? That could be why he was looking out for him."

She pressed her lips together, thinking. "It's a possibility. However, if John Callen knew about Jason Harper, he would have known who he was before the attack."

"I need to get a warrant for a DNA sample from Harper to check it against Callen's."

"Let me make a call first."

"Sure, Hetty."

Hetty narrowed her eyes, thinking. No. It couldn't be?

Her eyes scanned over the intel Eric sent her about Jason Harper. He was eight years younger than Callen, and his history was very different. Well, the one in Jason Harper's file. But they'd yet find his true identity. She couldn't shake the feeling there was more to the real identity behind the man, Jason Harper. If anyone knew the answer, it was John Callen. She took in a slow deep breath, in preparation for her call.

"John."

"Miss Lange. I don't have any further updates for you, other than the CIA operatives, Dasper and O'Conner, left after I told them to get lost."

"That is good news at least. Eric has proof they were seen at Fargo airport when Grisha was there. I have called on another matter."

"What is that?"

"Jason Harper."

"The neighbour who was killed?"

"Yes." She paused before continuing. John didn't make this conversation easier since he had fallen silent on the other end of the phone.

"Who was he?"

"I don't know what you're referring to?"

"Oh, come on, John. Enough with the games. I can see the resemblance to you and Grisha."

"John?"

"I'm sorry, I cannot help you there. Whatever you may suspect, you're wrong." She had to be wrong. He managed to keep his breathing steady, but this news that Hetty suspected Jason Harper to be a relation to them, shook him. He shoved his left hand into the pocket of his trousers, to hide the shaking.

"You know I will find out the truth in the end, John."

"I have to go." He disconnected the call and bent over to breathe. It had been thirty years since his eldest son had walked out of his life, never to be seen or heard from again. It wasn't his son's fault, his ex-wife had taken him with her when she left him. It had hurt him deeply, but he'd been undercover and overseas at the time, and when he finally came home, they'd vanished. He'd almost thought something dreadful had happened to them, if it hadn't been for the note Tess had left him, and the divorce papers, citing abandonment. There was no way this Jason Harper was his son. No way his ex would have allowed their son to follow in his footsteps.

John needed to leave this crash site and search for his ex-wife, Tess, and their son, Sean. He'd tried over the years to find them, at times using the searching software available to him at Langley. But they'd vanished, and he suspected, she'd changed their names to keep him away, especially from their son.

He closed his eyes, trying desperately to find some kind of memory of the young blond haired, blue eyed boy he remembered. He'd been ten at the time he'd vanished, and he'd missed him growing up into a man. It haunted him over the years, but it was his partner, Natalia Carston, who brought him out of his grief and loved him. They married a year later, and then their son, Jack, and daughter, Jules, had been born. Twins who were as different as they could possibly be.

He dialled his partner, knowing if anyone could help him find the truth, it was her. She knew his past and had helped him through his grief.

"Nat."

"What is it, John?" Her voice soothed him, and he needed her with him, but he knew it was not possible at this time.

"I need you to do a history search into someone. Jason Harper. He lived next door to Grisha, and was killed last week."

"What's going on, John?"

"I don't know. I'm working with Grisha's old boss, and she suspects Jason Harper is related to us."

"You believe he was Sean?"

"I will never know unless we search it out. Henrietta Lange expects me to know, but I am in the dark just as much as she is."

"If you get the DNA sample, we can match it to Sean's."

"I know." He breathed out. "I'll get it to you ASAP."

"John, you need to tell her."

He breathed out a couple of deep breaths. "I don't know if I can."

"She'll find out either way, wouldn't it be best to be honest with her?"

"The rumours that she's this formidable force might be true, but she's ageing, everything that's going on with Grisha is hitting her hard."

"Have you heard how he is?"

"No, I've been kept in the dark. She doesn't trust me enough."

"But you found his family safe anyway?"

"Yes. I did. They're safe where they are. But I'm afraid for them. If this Jason Harper is really Sean—" John couldn't continue, all the air rushed out of his lungs.

"Then someone else realised that he and Grisha are related, and we could be in danger too." She finished for him.

"Don't you worry about me." Natalia took slow deep breaths while she scanned the area. Lush summer leaves provided shade from the heat of the day. She was alone in the park, and she intended on keeping it that way.

"You know I will."

"You keep yourself safe, and that of Grisha and his family."

"I'll do what I can, but his team have provided a barrier around him, they'll be okay."

"Good. I'll wait for the DNA." She paused for a second. "I love you."

"Ditto." John breathed out. "Stay safe."

"You too."

John knew he needed to get back to Flathead Lake and ensure his cousin's grandchildren remained safe. His eyes scanned the crash site and found the NCIS CSU team leader. He walked over to Gary and nodded. He was piecing together what looked like rocket fragments that shot the plane down.

"I have to leave. Anything you find, you can reach Miss Lange on this number." He handed him a post-it note.

"Will do. Thanks for your help here, you've been a great help."

"No worries." John took long steady strides in his walk back to where he landed his plane a few days earlier. A makeshift base had been set up beside the crash site for an office, beds, and meals. But he needed to get away from this memory and to find out more about this Jason Harper.


	24. Chapter 24

_A/N: Thank you for being patient with me in writing this story. Life is busy and my novels are keeping me distracted from completing this one. I hope you enjoy the update._

 **Chapter 24**

 **SEAN**

Growing up without a father hadn't been easy for Sean. He'd looked at his friends with envy when their dads would play baseball or basketball with them on the weekends. Of course they were kind to him and allowed him to join in, but he'd suffered from not knowing whether his father was alive or dead.

His mother had changed their family name to Stratford after they left their family home in Washington D.C., in hope they could start fresh in a new city. He'd been ten and accepted whatever his mother told him. He wondered if something bad had happened to his father, and that's why they left suddenly.

San Francisco brought sunshine and his mother appeared happier. She dated when he had sleepovers with his friends on the weekend, but there never appeared to be anyone who came close to moving in with them or marrying his mom.

It was just the two of them, no aunts, uncles, cousins or grandparents, and he wished he had a house full of family to fill the emptiness he felt in his heart. Many times Sean fell to his knees before he went to bed at night, and prayed that his dad would find them, and they'd be happy again.

Weeks turned into months, and years into decades. Sean graduated from High School and left Los Angeles for college in Florida. He wanted to spread his wings away from his mom and hopefully, give him time to search for his father in D.C.

It hadn't been easy searching for a man who didn't want to be found. But he found him. He couldn't believe it when he first saw him exit the two storey red brick house, that appeared idyllic in the well tended garden and established trees. He'd managed to place a bug under his vehicle to see where he went, and was shocked when he drove erratically through the streets. There was no other word to describe the many turns his father made. But then it hit him when he arrived outside the CIA Headquarters in Fairfax, Virginia, and his father's driving made sense. He was CIA. It explained the faded memories he had of his father, the weeks and months missing from their family home.

From a distance, Sean watched his father. His partner was an attractive brunette and they seemed happy together. He couldn't follow them abroad, but he waited for their returns to the picturesque home in the suburbs.

One day, he had almost gathered the courage to step out and walk up to the front door, but before he could, a vehicle pulled up. Two children, a boy and a girl, exited and ran to the front door. They must have only been no more than six years old.

"Daddy." The girl squealed as his own father stepped out of the house and lifted the girl into his arms, spinning her around. The moment caught Sean's breath, he had another family, and replaced him and his mother. The pain seared deep into his heart.

The boy hugged the woman, and he realised his father had remarried to his CIA partner. The older couple laughed as they followed the children into the house. Grandparents. But were they Callen grandparents or the woman's? He tried to pull a memory of his own grandparents, and other than his mother's, he couldn't remember any. They died in a vehicle accident before they left D.C.

A tear rolled down his cheek and he quickly wiped it away. He continued to watch them from his hiding spot, where his vehicle sat in the shade of a tree, a few houses down. No one noticed him and he realised here, his father felt safe.

It was that moment when he decided he was going to become a Federal Agent. He didn't care for which agency, as long as it wasn't the CIA where his father worked. He wanted to find out more about him, and he hoped to access the government computer system would aid him in his search.

He moved to Virginia and sailed through his training at FLETC. NCIS grabbed him and they suggested he do Naval training for undercover work. He agreed and enjoyed the work he did. He was shipped off to San Diego for a few years, before NCIS gave him an assignment in Europe. Something to do with a case in the country Georgia, a joint task force with the CIA. Of course he had no say in the matter, he had to work wherever they assigned him, but he couldn't help but become excited in having access to Langley's computer. It was here he was able to peek into his father's files, and it proved what he had learned. He was married to a woman named Natalia Carston and had two children, Jack and Jules. They were eighteen now, and gone off to college. The CIA kept close watch on the twins as they spread their wings—one in Columbus, the other in Boston. Sean was tempted to contact Jack in Columbus, in hope he could tell him that he was his older brother, and waited until his return stateside.

But something didn't sit well with him on the Federov case, and he'd notified his superior of his concerns. Then he'd been shipped to Los Angeles and had gone under as Jason Harper and met Audrey. He moved into a home next door to his next assignment, and their relationship went strong and it didn't take them long to marry.

His mother tried to keep in contact with him with a cell phone he kept hidden in a safe deposit box—continuing to tell him she was busy with work and her circle of friends, and barely left him a phone message on his birthdays. She never bothered with Christmas after he left for College, and he'd lived his life pretty much alone until he met Audrey. She was his everything, and he was living undercover as Jason Harper. That was the only part of his job he hated, the lies he had to put in place to protect the work he did. As far as Audrey was concerned, he worked for a bogus company NCIS set up, and had worked for the Navy.

He found keeping the lie in place easy enough, especially when he met his new neighbours, the Campbell family. The man was a mystery, but it was evident he adored his wife and children. He told him he was a pilot but Jason knew otherwise. He knew he was NCIS Special Agent Grisha Callen, a second cousin, and a threat remained on his life. The family link had come as a surprise to him at first, but seeing his sons' deep blue eyes, there was no doubt they were related. He and his family had been hunted by Russians in Canada, and barely managed to come away from it alive. There had been a rogue NCIS agent further north, and a Russian arms dealer who'd gone to the ends of the earth to find Agent Callen to kill him and his family.

Knowing that Agent Grisha Callen was his cousin on his father's side held a particular interest to him, and a determination within him to do whatever he could to protect him. He worked hard to find out who the threat was and why NCIS Director Vance believed he was still in danger. It was revealed it all had to do with his father, a former KGB major, Nikita Reznikov, who had managed to enter the United States under an alias.

He collected the intel he needed to show Grisha if his research on one Eric Cairns eventuated. It took him some time to figure out who was behind the threat, and he'd no sooner figured it out, when Audrey told him she was pregnant. A baby complicated things. How could he continue the lie that he was Jason Harper if they had a child that would bare the false family name?

He agonised over it, thinking about it. He watched Grisha play with his children in the garden, and he realised that it didn't matter what name he bore, keeping his family safe was what mattered. Like his cousin.

He'd made contact with Director Vance's office, but was awaiting news on a meet up time. He became nervous, keeping this kind of information at his home. But it was necessary. He had a fire proof safe under the floorboards where he kept the information. It had been easy while Audrey was at the office, to access it. And his spare passports baring his many aliases and a wad of cash, hid in a locked tin under the floorboards in their bedroom. Thankfully, Audrey was too busy to notice the loose floorboards in the house. The only thing he had to do was tell Audrey to give Stephen Campbell the key, if anything happened to him. He needed a backup plan without revealing too much to arise suspicion.

Audrey had asked him about this key that she kept in her desk at work. All he told her was to trust him. She did without hesitation, but the lies that bled from his lips chipped away at him on the inside. He wanted to desperately to tell her who he really was, and that their neighbour was his cousin. He'd almost walked over to the Campbells and told Stephen the truth.

But Stephen had been in a serious vehicle accident and ended up with a broken back. It pushed Sean to step back and refocus on his task at hand, even now when his neighbour had recovered. He held back to protect what he knew.

Tonight, Audrey had arrived home and he'd prepared a special dinner for them. He'd been away so much recently, he needed to spoil her to make it up to her.

"Dinner smells good. Is that Indian?"

Sean became Jason Harper again and wrapped his arms around her. "Rogan Josh."

"Lamb. You know me well." She yawned from her long day at the office.

"How was your day?" He pulled a chair out for her at the dining table and sat next to her, lifting her foot up to rub it.

"You have magic hands." She yawned a second time. "I'm sorry, I'm so tired."

"I read the first trimester does that to you."

Audrey smiled. "You're so attentive to my needs and reading up about the pregnancy. What did I do to deserve this?"

A smirk formed on his lips. "I've missed you while I was away." He leaned forward and kissed her.

"Me too." A lazy smile rested on her lips.

"If you're ready, I'll bring our plates out."

"That would be perfect."

Dinner went well. She told him all about her day and retired early, needing the extra sleep. Jason watched a few basketball games on the television until ten, when he joined her. It was peaceful and he fell into a deep sleep.

A noise pulled him from his dream. His eyes opened and his heart hammer inside his chest. He felt eyes on him and it unnerved him. He tried to adjust his eyes to the dark when he felt the end of a pistol to his forehead.

Jason closed his eyes, he'd been found before he could pass the intel onto Director Vance. He kept his body still in hope that whoever had entered, wanted money and valuables, and would leave them alone.

The bedroom light flickered on, almost blinding him.

"He is awake." The man with the pistol said with an accent.

"Get him up, and the woman."

"Leave her alone." Sean protested.

"Bring her. She could come in use."

Audrey screamed as they dragged her from the bed, pulling her hair. She gave Jason a look of fear, for them and their unborn child. He tried to appease her with a look, but he was pushed forward from the bedroom into the dining room.

"Where is it?"

"Tell me what it is you are after, and we will give it to you."

"The Fabergé egg."

Jason's eyes bulged, not the stupid egg. He didn't know where it was, even in his search, and now felt he'd been set up by Eric Cairns. Bastard!

"I don't know it. I've never seen it." Other than pictures, he spoke the truth.

"You lie." He was whipped by the back of the pistol and his vision blurred.

"Search the bedroom." The man who appeared to lead the men, instructed them.

He could hear items being pulled from the closet, but he kept his breathing steady as he could. He couldn't allow them to figure out about the safe nor the aliases under the floor boards. How would he explain this to Audrey?

"It's not there."

"It has to be."

Jason assumed they spoke of the Fabergé egg because they asked for it, but he wondered if it was a ruse, and what they really wanted was the information he'd gathered on Eric Cairns.

"Where is it?" The voice became more demanding.

"We don't have it. I don't know who has it."

They turned to Audrey, hoping she'd make him break. They slapped her across the face and he wrestled in his bonds.

"Leave her alone." He wrestled to break free. But they were outnumbered, and whatever they were after, he hoped they never found his safe nor his tin.

The man pulled Audrey's beautiful dark hair back hard, causing her pain. "Such a shame to damage a pretty face."

Tears poured down Audrey's face. The fear she felt overwhelmed her.

"No!" Jason pulled free, he moved to protect Audrey when he felt the hot metal sear his temple. Everything went black.

* * *

"G." Sam looked worriedly over to his partner. He remained in considerable amount of pain, and was trying to shift his head, and it brought him out of his sleep. The halo continued to pin his head down and the fear that this was his future, took hold.

"Stay still. Do what the doctor wants and you'll be out of here soon."

"Easy for you to say." His eyes searched for his grey haired friend, but Gibbs was sitting outside the room.

"Jason."

"He died, remember?" Sam frowned, concerned his partner was suffering from concussion.

"I know. But he looked like me."

Sam remembered the photos of the neighbour. "You haven't looked like that for years."

"I know. But that doesn't mean he wasn't killed by mistake."

"It wasn't a mistake, G."

"I don't understand?"

"Deeks called. They found a safe under the floorboards. This is why Jason's body had been moved. They were searching for a key and the safe. They must have figured it out Jason had it somewhere."

"What was in the safe?" His eyes bore into his partner's.

"CIA documents. Proof Deputy Director Eric Cairns wanted you and your father dead."

"What?" Callen remembered Eric Cairns from his time working at Langley. "Why is he after us?"

"We suspect he's been paid by the Russians."

"But they have my dad." Pain shot through him again. He pressed the buzzer needing pain relief.

"Your father is safe." Sam whispered to him. "Hetty called earlier."

Callen's eyes widened. "Where?"

"We don't know."

"I need to speak with her."

"I'll call her." Sam dialled the satellite number and waited.

"Mr Hanna. How is Mr Campbell?"

"He's suffering from pain. He wants to speak with you." Sam passed over his cell.

"Mr Campbell."

"Hetty. Where is my father?"

"I do not know where, other than he is safe."

"How do you know?"

"We solved the dilema of Alice's night visitor."

"Alice would have recognised her grandfather." He felt ill with pain and wanted relief. What was taking the nurse so long to get there?

"It wasn't your father."

"Then who was it?" He couldn't understand, the house was secure.

"Your mother's cousin, John Callen."

Callen furrowed his brow, thinking. "I don't know of a cousin of my mother's. Have you checked him out?"

"He checks out. He agreed to do a DNA test with Alice. He found us in our safe location, after placing a bug in Gerald. He wanted to see if your family were safe."

Rage rushed through him. "He did what?"

"He is safe, Stephen. He is helping us out, and told us that he and his partner rescued your father. He never made it back to Moscow."

"He knows my dad?" All this time he looked for family, and now they were coming out of the woodwork.

"What about Jason? He looked like me. Was he related to me too?" He tried to think back to when he met Jason and Audrey Harper the first time. They were in love, that had been apparent, but now he wondered had he ignored the signs that there was more to him? The many passports under the floorboards says he was a Federal Agent and worked for NCIS. But in all the years he'd been in Los Angeles, he'd not seen him before.

"We are looking into it."

Callen bit on the inside of his cheek. A tear spilled, as he realised that if Jason Harper had been a relation to him, he never found out in time.

"Thea and your children are safe. Focus on your recovery."

"I want to come now." He missed them greatly.

"We'll see what we can do in a week's time." She'd hoped sooner, but with Callen having a halo over his head, there was no chance of that happening any earlier.

"I can't wait that long."

"Behave." She warned him, knowing him too well.

"I cannot promise anything." He closed his eyes as another wave of pain rushed through him. He disconnected the call and breathed through the pain.

A nurse entered and looked at the pained expression. "Mr Campbell. I will find the doctor." She exited as quickly as she arrived. Something was up with their patient, and she didn't like it one bit. He should be feeling comfortable by now.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

Callen's condition appeared to be getting worse than better. The doctor and the nurse returned to assess him.

"Where is the pain, Mr Campbell?" Dr Harrison asked him.

He looked at the scans they'd taken a day earlier. Nothing came up in the report other than fractured ribs. There was some bruising on Mr Campbell's spine in the thoracic region and he kept the halo in place until the swelling went down.

"My side." He moved his hand to his left side, and instantly, Sam knew what it was.

"What do the scans say about his left side?" Sam asked the doctor.

"He has two fractured ribs, but there was no indication it pierced his lungs."

"What about a blood clot?"

Dr Harrison looked at Sam with curiosity. "Are you a trained doctor, Mr Hanna?"

"I served in the SEALs, and learned a great deal, patching my team up in the field."

Dr Harrison looked to his nurse. "Organise a scan immediately."

"Yes, Dr Harrison."

"We'll get to the bottom of your pain, Mr Campbell."

* * *

Officer Peter O'Conner sat at his desk at Langley, his mind whirling around over recent events. It didn't sit well with him on the matter of killing fellow agents, even if the orders came from Deputy Director, Eric Cairns. There was something that ripped into his heart, that they'd killed an innocent man. His partner, James Dasper, looked up to Cairns and did everything he asked without question.

He needed to get out into the fresh air and escape the walls of this building, which now represented killing the innocent. The CIA had no grounds to operate on US soil to kill its own people, especially those who served as Federal Agents like themselves. He needed a reason to get out of there, and to walk away. But if he made himself look suspicious in any way, he knew he'd be next on the hit list.

"Want a coffee?" O'Conner asked his partner.

"Thanks." James continued working at his computer, his eyes never lifted as he worked.

Peter breathed easier as he exited the building. He walked along the street to the nearest cafe and placed in their orders. He waited and waited, and eventually, their coffees were ready. As he turned, he bumped into someone, almost spilling it all over him.

"Watch it." Peter said, hoping to make it out of the cafe without incident.

The man turned and looked at Peter. John Callen stared at him with such intensity.

"What do you want?" Peter stood motionless.

"Where is your partner?"

"Back in the office."

"How has your week been?" John's eyes measured the man before him, and knew he was on edge.

"Fine."

"Bull." John stepped closer. "Kill anyone you shouldn't have?"

Peter swallowed hard the lump that formed and knew John was on to them. "Only orders from up top."

John positioned himself so Peter couldn't move. "Not on US soil, you don't. Tell me who ordered you to shoot that plane down, and we might give you a plea bargain."

Sweat beaded across Peter's face. "He was a Russian spy."

"Is that what you were told?" John's cerulean orbs stared him down.

"Yes."

"By whom?"

"Cairns." Peter breathed out. "He'll kill me if he knows I've told you."

"He won't touch you, because you're coming with me."

Fear flashed over his face. "Where?"

"NCIS headquarters. We will place you in a safe house if you cooperate?"

"James knows I've come here."

"I have a vehicle out back." John motioned to Peter to walk towards the bathrooms and the rear exit. "Get in."

Peter capitulated and sat in the passenger seat. He could have run, but he suppose John still held a solid shot, and could shoot him. He rather live than die today.

"That wasn't so difficult." John headed away from Langley, towards the Navy Yard, where Director Vance would be surprised with his package—one of the men who shot Agent Callen's plane down.

He drove in circles and rerouted himself. He pulled over midway and asked O'Conner for his phone. He took the battery out and threw it into a bin. He couldn't afford for James Dasper or Eric Cairns to trace their movements. For now, they would only see a crazy drive through D.C., to an unknown and unimportant location. They would find nothing here but the battery for O'Conner's cell. John had already switched his cell off before he met O'Conner in the cafe. He'd followed him once he left the building, and could see he was jumpy. A sign of guilt planted on the younger man's face, and it was that look, that helped John decide on his next step of action. So far his gut had been right about O'Conner. He hoped the man continued to play nice.

John showed his identity as they arrived at the Navy Yard. He was given a visitor's pass, and he walked O'Conner through the entry and into the elevator with cuffs on. He wasn't going to afford his companion the right to run away.

Director Vance waited for them along the mezzanine, looking out towards the elevator as they exited onto the floor below. He continued to watched them as John walked O'Conner up the stairs.

"Conference room or interrogation room?" John asked Vance.

"Conference room for now." Leon's dark brown eyes bore into Peter O'Conner's blue eyes before opening the door.

"I've come of my own free will." Peter began.

"Stop the bull. I cornered you and forced you here." John pushed him to sit down.

"Can I have these cuffs removed?"

"That depends on how well you play." John sat across from him, while Director Vance chose the end chair at the table, which was positioned in front of the large mullioned window.

"Why is he here?" Leon Vance knew exactly who Peter O'Conner was, his team were building a case against him from the killings of his men who'd worked with O'Conner and Dasper on the Federov case.

"He and his partner shot Agent Callen's plane down three days ago, on orders from Deputy Director Eric Cairns."

"We were told he was a Russian spy." Peter stated in his defence. "But something didn't sit well with me. It didn't seem right to kill a fellow Federal Agent."

Leon looked over to John, raising his brow. The man talked freely, and now they would be able to build their case against Cairns. As long as they found a way to keep the man with them alive.

"What about my other agents who worked on the Federov case with you and Dasper?" Leon had lost too many agents from this, Cairns was going down.

"We were instructed to make them look like they'd stolen the Febergé egg from the Russians, so they'd come looking for them and kill them."

"Why?" Leon asked him.

"To draw out Agent Callen."

Rage flashed over John and Leon.

"Because he was a Russian spy?" John pressed.

"Yes." Peter felt uncomfortable under their gazes.

"What about this man." A photo of Jason Harper was placed on the table in front of him. Director Vance felt the guilt that his agent had lost his life while gathering intel to protect Agent Callen.

"We worked with him on the Federov Case."

"Yes. Russian mercenaries entered his home looking for the Fabergé egg. Then another CIA agent, imposing as an LAPD Detective Isaacs, moved his body before the assigned detective and CSIs could assess the crime scene. He was looking for a key and a safe. Neither of which he found. We know that he is one of your colleagues."

"I don't know anything about his death. I swear, our job was to steal the egg and place it with some Syrians in Paris."

"Yes." Leon replied. "We found the egg, and it's been returned to Moscow, where it belongs."

"But you and Dasper made them look like thieves to the Russians." Leon added

"We were ordered by Cairns."

"Yes, you've told us that." John's patience ran dry.

"You must understand, orders are orders."

"Not when it involves shooting down a plane in US airspace." John roared.

Peter jumped at the velocity of John Callen's voice, as it boomed through the room.

"He will kill me if he finds out I've talked with you."

"We will protect you." Leon calmly told him. "But we need to know about the CIA operative in Los Angeles, Officer Shane McGuire. What was he after?"

Peter shook his head, this was out of his league. "I do not know."

Leon made a call and two agents entered, taking Peter out.

"Where are they taking me?"

"To a cell until we can relocate you. You will be safe in the meantime."

The room fell silent after Peter was taken out of the conference room. Leon looked over to John, arching his right brow.

"You've told Henrietta Lang who you are?"

"I had to."

"That took a lot of courage for you to come out and admit who you are. You've never trusted her with your cousin's son."

"She may have a sketchy past in Romania, but she's proven her loyalties lie with Grisha. She will go to her death to protect him."

"I agree." Leon paused. "I get the feeling you have something else to ask of me?"

"This agent of yours, Jason Harper. Who was he really?"

Leon lifted out the photo of Special Agent Sean Stratford and shook his head.

"He was top of his class at FLETC, wanted to become a Federal Agent as long as it wasn't with the CIA. He never told me why he didn't want to work for the CIA. He trained in the Navy for his undercover work, and he was as good an agent as Agent Callen. I placed him next door to the Campbells to keep them safe. He met Audrey and she became a great cover for him. He fell in love, and pleaded for me to be able to tell her who he really was. But until this case was over who was out to hurt Agent Callen was closed, we couldn't afford for him to tell her.

"Hetty doesn't even know who he was." John knew it wouldn't be long before she figured it out.

"But I gather you do?" Leon noted the similarities to Agent Callen and the man who sat with him.

"I was undercover in eastern Europe for six months. Came home to an empty house. My wife left me a note that she was filing for divorce for abandonment. I shouldn't have blamed her like I did at the time, but I loved her and our son. Sean was ten at the time, and how do you explain to a ten year old what you do for a living and why you're away so much? I tried searching for them for years." John wiped at a stray tear.

"I was so close to my son when I appeared at Grisha's home, and I didn't even know it."

Leon handed John an envelope. ""Agent Stratford asked for this to be given to you on the event of his death. I presumed there was a family connection somewhere. I am sorry for your loss."

Leon rose from the chair and exited the room. He now had to call Hetty to reveal the true identity of Jason Harper, now they knew for certain that Jason was really Sean Callen.

John sat with his vision blurred from the tears that spilled onto the table. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his eyes and face. He sniffed back the emotions and tore at the seal.

 _Dear Dad._

 _I know you have many questions about my life, who I became after mom moved us away from D.C. I didn't even know you were alive until I was eighteen and went looking for you. Mom never knew I searched for you, as she settled in San Francisco and had her own tight network of friends and lovers. She never married again but she seems happy._

 _I missed you so much. I needed you, and mom took that away from us. I hate her so much for what she did, taking us away, changing our family name to Stratford._

 _It took me a long time to find you, but I guessed you'd still be in D.C. I was right, and finally I found you living in a two storey red brick home with your new family. Jack and Jules were six, and it hurt me so much to know you'd moved on. You all looked so happy, and I'd wished I'd been part of it all. I almost came to your door and told you who I was, to see your reaction. But I was gutless I suppose._

 _I bugged your car. For a CIA officer, you need to take more care. I found out when I followed your car, what you did for a job. You need to do better to keep yourself safe, dad. I realised as I watched you at home, you felt safe and had no idea I was watching you. Another mistake you made. Surprised you made it this far alive._

 _It was then I decided I was going to train to become a Federal Agent like you, but never to work for the CIA. I didn't want to bump into you, yet, I wanted to learn more about you. I discovered you married your partner, Natalia, and learned all about Jack and Jules._

 _I found Jack in Columbus. He's turned out a great guy, and I told him I was his brother. I made him promise never to speak about me to you, because I was afraid of you rejecting me a second time. We caught up when we could. It helped me a lot making contact with Jack. He can tell you anything you need to know._

 _Work has kept me busy, filling in the void of no family. Mom doesn't care about me now I'm grown up, but I know you continue to keep in contact with Jack and Jules regularly. If it had come to a custody battle, you would have won. I would have chosen you._

 _My latest case has been an interesting one. I found a cousin on the Callen side. Grisha. I have this opportunity to protect him and his family. His kids are adorable, and very much like what Jack and Jules were like when they were young. The youngest is like what I was. Like Grisha in every way. But I worry. There is someone at Langley out to kill Grisha. I worry how this will pan out, and I know I will die to protect Grisha and his family. Which is why I am now writing this letter to you. In case I don't make it out alive._

 _I've met Audrey and we married two years ago. She's just told me she's expecting. If something happens to me, please take good care of her and our baby._

 _I never stopped loving you._

 _Sean x_

A strange sound escaped John's throat, a strangled noise as he sobbed. Cried for the son he lost thirty years earlier, but had searched him out. He tried to think back to when Jack and Jules were six, but it was so long ago, and not once did he suspect he was being followed. His son was a great agent, one of the best, Leon told him. Like Grisha, who'd managed to jump out of the plane before it was shot down.

He fisted his hands. He needed revenge. Revenge for his son's death. He'd done what he had to do, to protect Garrison and Grisha, however, he'd never expected his own son, his firstborn, would die trying to protect Grisha. He'd gathered intelligence that would send Eric Cairns away for a real long time.

A faint knock on the door caught his attention. He reined in his emotions and looked up at the young African American woman with pink rimmed glasses. She looked hesitant, and was a far cry from the people he normally worked with. Was she Leon's assistant?

"Hi. I'm Kasie Hines, the Forensic Scientist here. Your partner, Natalia, asked for a DNA match for Agents Grisha Callen and Sean Stratford. I was asked to give it to you, and only you." She handed him the file, but John already knew the answer.

"They were second cousins." John admitted to Kasie. "Sean figured it out. He was only ten when he and his mother vanished and took on Stratford as a family name. I spent thirty years searching for them."

"I'm sorry for your loss." Kasie moved a box of tissues over to John. "Can I get you anything else?"

John shook his head. "No. Thank you, Kasie. You've done more than I could ask for."

She left him alone and headed into Director Vance's office.

"What did the DNA prove?" Leon observed the younger woman.

"What we already suspected. Sean Stratford was Sean Callen. Taken away from his father at age ten, but found him again and learned of his other family. Decided to become a Federal Agent after discovering this fact about his father, but avoided the CIA, so he wouldn't bump into his father."

"Thank you, Miss Hines. How is our visitor?"

"Heart broken." Kasie slipped into the chair opposite Leon. "He's just found his son, days after he was killed."

"I've received a call from Agent McGee. Sean's wife, Audrey is expecting a baby. Two months along. I hope this news will help our visitor heal from his grief. I've arranged for Audrey to be flown to D.C. to meet John. This will help them both."

"What about Cairns?"

"We have agents arriving at Langley as we speak, with a warrant for his arrest and that of Officer James Dasper."

"It's all over." She felt relieved. "Our team can come home."

"Not quite. We still have the matter of the Russian mercenaries. We hope our counterparts in Moscow can assist us on the matter and deal with them."

"You're happy to let them deal with them? They killed our agents. Sean."

"Until the court case is over, we still have to keep the Campbell family and that of Audrey Harper safe."

"They should be safe now, Sir."

"They should have been safe before all of this." Leon admitted.

Kasie nodded. She was thankful she wasn't an agent, she couldn't deal with the crime her colleagues faced daily on the job.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: Thank you for being patient with me on this story. I hope you enjoy this update.**

 **Chapter 26**

The clot appeared on the scan and Dr Harrison shook his head. It hadn't appeared in previous scans, and it frustrated him that this had happened to his patient. Thankfully, his friend who had experience in a war zone had been there. He needed to move his patient, clots were the side affect from lying still. He entered the room of his patient, Stephen Campbell, and nodded to his friend.

"As you suspected, a clot has formed in his lungs. We need to get Stephen moving and walking." His eyes shifted to his patient.

"We have medicine to assist you with the clot, Mr Campbell. We need to get you up out of this bed to prevent more clots from forming."

Callen's hand shifted to the halo that rested over his head.

"We can remove this too." A warm smile rested on Dr Harrison's lips. "You are healing well. You are a lucky man. No more parachuting for you."

He'd come in with the information that he'd fallen badly from a parachuting accident. It was necessary to provide the medical staff the truth to how Callen came across these injuries, incase something was missed in their initial assessment of his condition.

Callen's smile widened, pleased to be getting up. The pain remained, but his spirits were brightened with this news.

"We need for you to take care, Mr Campbell. Do not forget your fractured ribs." Dr Harrison shook his head, how many times had this man fallen badly from parachuting? Looking at his old injuries had shocked him. Little did he know this man had suffered much in saving this country.

"He knows to take it easy." Sam replied. His eyes bore into Callen's to remind him of it too.

Pleased the former Navy SEAL would ensure this would be the case, he watched the two in action, and realised Mr Hanna had been with Mr Campbell for the previous accidents. They worked well together, and he hid his smile as Mr Hanna mothered him.

John and Natalia entered the Navy Yard and were walked onto the second floor, where Leon Vance waited for them. John took Natalia's hand and led her up the flight of stairs.

"Officer Carston. Welcome to NCIS."

"Call me Natalia, Director Vance."

"This way." Leon led them through to the conference room. A woman sat there quietly and looked up with surprise at the older version of her dead husband which hinted in her eyes.

"Audrey. This is John Callen and Natalia Carston."

"Sean was my son." John cleared his throat that was fogged with emotion.

"Sean. I only ever knew him as Jason." Tears spilled down her face and her hand went to her small bump.

"Sean told me you're pregnant. We would like to take care of you and the baby, if that is okay with you?"

"I never knew he had any family." She bit on her lower lip to stop it from trembling. "I would like that very much."

John moved around the long table and sat down next to her. He took her hand in his. "Sean was taken from me when he was ten. He found me, but he never approached me. I wish he had. I tried looking for him."

Audrey saw the grief in John's eyes. "How did Sean tell you I was pregnant?"

"He left Director Vance a letter for me in case anything happened to him."

"Oh." She didn't know what to say then.

"He contacted our son, Jack. We have a daughter, Jules too. They both would love to meet you and welcome you into our family. Jack can tell you anything you need to know about Sean."

"Thank you." The tears fell again, and she quickly wiped them away. She looked over to Natalia. "You're not his mother?"

"No."

"Who is she and does she know what's happened?"

John straightened his spine. "Agents in the NCIS San Francisco office have visited her."

"She's all alone now."

"Did you ever meet her?"

Audrey shook her head. "No. Jason, I mean, Sean, he never spoke of having any family."

Doubt formed in her mind over what to do. The Callens appeared kind and willing to welcome her into their family.

"Sean's mother took him away from me, and she didn't have much contact with Sean once he left for college. You were his life," John admitted.

Audrey wiped at the tears. "He was so attentive to my needs. My parents are old and need care themselves. My sister has always been better at looking after them than I was. I was always the career focused one."

"Whatever you want to do, we'll support you. But," John's eyes lifted to Leon's. "it's not safe for you to return to Los Angeles. Not until we are certain all who are responsible for Sean's death are locked away."

"How long do we have to stay at the safe house? Why couldn't Rebekah come with me?"

"Rebekah can return home. We have a place in mind for you for a while. Short term."

"Am I allowed to know where?"

John smiled. "Not until we reach there. It's beautiful, and there are women and children there to keep you occupied."

She was curious to know more, but she held back, since she knew he couldn't tell her more than he already had.

"Okay." She needed to stay safe, and since she didn't have a home to return to, having company sounded like the better option.

The D.C. team worked hard alongside Detective Deeks and Eric Beale. Deputy Director Ochoa was pleased with their results and allowed their return home.

Deeks returned to LAPD until his team returned from wherever they currently resided. Even he remained in the dark of their locations. At least Agent Callen was alive and healing. The Harper family home was cleared to pull down, now they had all the evidence of the arson and the murder that took place just over a week ago.

Deeks seemed hesitant to leave OSP, but he understood why he had to return. He was missing Kensi and their son, that was clear in his eyes. Ochoa hoped Deeks found himself busy at LAPD in the meantime.

Ochoa had another team step in to OSP in the meantime, keeping Eric busy, so he wouldn't worry about any of the team. The toll this last case laid heavily on all of them, in particular, with Agent Callen and a CIA officer he'd yet to meet. He was curious to meet this John Callen, a cousin of Grisha's mother. There had been too many angles on how this case would play out when they first started, and it led them onto another case Director Vance had kept privy from him. He needed to see him, and decided to head east to speak with him on the matter. If their agents knew about Jason from the onset, then it would have saved a lot of pain and time on his people.

His cell shrilled and he noted it was Leon Vance.

"Your timing is impeccable, Leon. I was about to head to the airport to fly back."

"You need to stay in Los Angeles longer. Not all the loose ends have been tied on this case."

"The team are spread out."

"Bring Detective Deeks back from LAPD. He belongs at OSP. He can work with the new team you've brought in to replace the others in the meantime."

"Can I ask why you kept Jason Harper's real identity from our agents?"

"It was necessary. It was a need to know basis."

"Even after he was killed, you didn't think it was impertinent to the case to tell us?"

"Not until we knew what Agent Stratford had discovered about Agent Callen."

"Not once did you let on to your people that Agent Callen was in danger, nor his family."

"We didn't have the facts." Leon huffed out.

"No. Because you didn't send someone in time to meet him. He had all the intel, but none of it had been passed on. You could have saved Agent Stratford and prevented Agent Callen from almost dying, and saved the other agents who worked on the Federov case too."

Leon fisted his hands, he knew he'd failed his men, and he would carry the guilt with him.

"I have to go." Leon told Ochoa.

"You have to answer for this, Leon. To your people and their families."

"I do not need you or anyone tell me what I need to do. Don't you realise I already carry the guilt of their deaths on my shoulders?"

Louis understood Leon's position, but still, he couldn't help pointing the blame at him. Someone had to pay for the men killed in this mess. Yet, somehow, he knew it wasn't Leon Vance who should suffer his accusations, but that of the CIA Deputy Director, Eric Cairns. He was merely offsetting his anger at his boss, rather than at the real culprit.

Deputy Director Eric Cairns glared at the NCIS Agent who sat on the opposite side of the table in the interviewing room. He'd waited for what seemed like an eternity before this agent had arrived, and now he attempted to exude power over her, hoping to intimidate and cast out whatever case they had against him. But the blonde woman across from him merely observed him, saying nothing for the moment.

He was furious. He'd been caught out and the shock from his sudden arrest, hinted at his pride being hurt. Someone had betrayed him, and once he figured out who, he was going to end their careers and destroy their families.

The door opened and Director Leon Vance entered, taking the vacant seat next to Jack.

"Special Agent Sloan and Director Vance are interviewing CIA Deputy Director Eric Cairns for the murders of NCIS Special Agents Sean Stratford, Adrian Prior, G. Callen, and Bradley Moore, and Lieutenant Tony Sutton."

"Whatever are you talking about?" Eric Cairns glared at Jack Sloan, but she never flinched and instead spent the time studying the behaviour of the CIA's Deputy Director. He was going down—loss of employment and freedom, for a really long time. He was likened to a caged tiger wanting freedom, but he wasn't going to have his way on this.

Leon laid out the evidence in front of Cairns.

"Two years ago, you instructed your men, Officers, James Dasper and Peter O'Conner—who worked on the joint Federov case with NCIS Special Agents, Sean Stratford, otherwise known as Jason Harper, Adrian Prior, Braley Moore and Tony Sutton—to steal the Fabergé egg to cause aggravation with the Russians, and framed these men for the theft, whilst you had them keep the egg in Paris with a group of Syrians."

"You have no proof." The words flew out of Cairns' mouth without a thought.

"We haven't finished." Leon pulled out another document. "And proof that you were out to have Agent G. Callen murdered alongside his father, a former Russian KGB Major, Nikita Reznikov. I believe this document is clear." He laid it in front of Cairns to read.

Cairns visage reddened and he looked as if he was about to explode. "This is a conspiracy."

"I have the testimonies from three of your officers, James Dasper, Peter O'Conner and Shane McGuire, that will support this document."

"I'm being framed." His rage continued. Spittle flew across the table, but landed before it hit either NCIS employee.

"An interesting claim, when it was my agents whom you framed and had murdered as a result of it. What I want to know is why? Why did you have my agents framed and killed as collateral to your end game?"

"They stole something precious to the Russians. I'm not at fault for their actions."

"You lie!" Leon scolded him. "Grow up, Cairns, and act like a man. Own up to your actions. You won't walk away from this."

I've done nothing wrong." Eric continued.

"You orchestrated all of this to bring one man out of hiding to target. Why did you want Agent G. Callen dead so badly?" Leon leaned over the table and roared.

"He's a Russian spy."

"Why would he be a spy when he's never lived in Russia?"

"His Russian is flawless. Surely you can't see through the facade. He is a spy."

"What did Agent Callen do to you while he worked at Langley?" Jack Sloan calmly asked him. The attention of their main suspect shifted back to the blonde woman.

"So you can speak after all."

"Agent Sloane asked you a question." Leon brought Cairns back onto track. "Answer her."

"He didn't do anything."

"Then why the witch hunt?" Jack continued her line of questioning, attempting to reveal the man's motives.

"He's not even American. Born in Romania to a Russian KGB. He has no right to be here let alone work as a federal agent."

"What do you have against Agent G. Callen?"

"The man doesn't even have a name. Isn't it obvious, he was planted by the Russians."

"Stop the lies, Cairns." Leon slammed his hand onto the table. "You have worked alongside the Russians in murdering five of my men. Good men who have only risked their lives for the good of our nation."

"So it's true then, Agent Callen is dead?"

Leon rose and stormed out of the room. He couldn't believe the audacity that man had. He walked into the viewing room and was thankful Gibbs wasn't there to watch this interview, or the ones he'd held already with O'Conner and Dasper.

""Why did you want Agent Callen dead?"

"Haven't you been listening to me? I've told you why."

"Do you really believe the lies that bleed from your lips?" Jacqueline Sloane was good at analysing suspects, Cairns was no different. The man was playing a game, taking them around in circles, avoiding the truth.

"I'm telling you the truth."

Jack rose from the chair. "When you're ready to admit the real reason for you wanting Agent Callen dead, we'll continue our interview. Interview suspended at seventeen hundred." She closed the door behind her and drew in a deep breath. Eric Cairns was a tough nut to break.

"Let me out of here, damn it!" Eric Cairns attempted to follow Jack out of the interview room but she'd locked it behind her. He banged on the door in frustration.

Leon stepped out of the viewing room and accompanied Jack away from the racket Cairns was creating.

"He's playing us. He's stupid enough to believe we'll let him walk out of here a free man and back to Langley," Jack told him.

"I have Director Sharp on his way, he wants a crack at Cairns on this. After I sent him the evidence, he was livid. The President isn't happy either, and wants a conference call once Sharp arrives. He wants answers as to how Cairns' actions over the past two and a half years, have gone unnoticed. This isn't just a recent action by Cairns, he's been planning and plotting to draw Agent Callen out of the shadows to end his life. He had no care about anyone else getting in the way. It's a good thing our people were able to save Agent Prior."

They entered Jack's office and closed the door. "Yes, and the other. I want to go and speak with him myself. I'm blown away how he escaped death."

"That will have to wait. No one can know he's alive or where he is. His injuries are serious, he's not out of the woods yet." Leon shook his head. "If I had any idea he was after Agent Callen and would go after other agents, I would never have agreed to the joint task force."

"No one envisioned the evil he conjured up in his mind." She handed him a file she'd produced on Eric Cairns.

"What's this?"

"My own research on our guest."

Leon opened the cream manilla folder and scanned the documents inside. "Where did you find this?"

"I had to dig deep. It looks like we found our real motive. I was hoping Cairns would play nice and admit the truth."

"He blames Nikita for his father's death."

"Yes. He helped his mother into the U.S. in the mid sixties, leaving his father behind to face tough interrogations from the KGB on where his wife had vanished to. He was tortured and died a slow death. His mother was pregnant with Eric at the time and raised him on her own. They lived a tough life here in the U.S. She'd been working for the Russian Government and didn't like what she saw and wanted out, but the only way out was death if she stayed. Instead, she sought Nikita out for help and he assisted her. Her real name was Oksana Kuznetsov. Her father was a General, and her disappearance was highly noted because of his status. Her husband, Gleb Teplov, was blamed for her disappearance, even though he had no idea how she disappeared. He was a wealthy businessman in Moscow."

"It says here that her new American name Nikita gave her is Shirley Cairns. She's eighty years old and living in a nursing home in Virginia?"

"That's right. She's an illegal immigrant. We could threaten to have her sent back to Moscow if Cairns refuses to admit the truth."

"Cairns was born here?"

"Yes. He is American born, however, his roots are Russian. He's developed a hatred for Nikita and must have discovered the connection with Agent Callen, forming his plan of revenge."

"Nikita did the honourable thing by helping Oksana out with a new life in America, yet her son grew up to spite him so much—he'd go as far as murdering good people to act it out."

"You've done well, Jack. This is exactly the proof we needed to tie the loose ends to this case."

"I'm surprised the CIA background check on Cairns never found out about Shirley Cairns' true identity. He would never have been allowed into Langley with his family history."

"Perhaps they did and thought he would make the perfect person for any Russian dealings. Dig deeper, take a look at the early work he did for Langley. I bet they'll have Russian ties."

Jack handed him a second folder. "It's all here, Leon."

Leon arched his brow, impressed. "We don't even have Ellie around to dig this deep so quickly."

"It helped that Director Sharp gave us access to Cairns' file."

"Thank you. I'll take this with me. Sharp should be arriving soon."


	27. Chapter 27

_A/N: Thank you for those who left reviews for the last chapter. Just to clarify, Callen is still alive, but NCIS is giving the illusion that he died in the crash for protection. I hope this chapter helps clarify more about why Cairns was after Callen._

 **Chapter 27**

Thea lifted her head up to the blue sky and praised God for saving her husband from certain death. After speaking with Stephen, her spirits lifted. She still had to wait a week before he could arrive at Flathead Lake, but he was safe and alive, healing and moving. Two more broken ribs, the same ones from Mexico. She continued to hold a grudge against Mosley for her husband's near-death over three months ago, now her anger was aimed at a new culprit, Eric Cairns. He'd lost his position at Langley and will face time in prison, but even that didn't give her enough comfort. Not until she held her husband in her own arms and saw that he was indeed safe.

Movement from behind her caught her attention. John Callen had returned and this time he was not alone. He had returned with his wife, Natalia, and a familiar face, her neighbour, Audrey Harper.

She moved swiftly up the hill to meet them, demanding answers as to why John had brought Audrey to their safe place.

"Why is she here?" Thea burst out immediately.

"Walk with me, Thea. Please." John led her away from the vehicle, out of hearing from Audrey.

"Jason Harper was my son, my long lost son from over thirty years ago. He was ten when his mother left me. I thought I had lost him for good, only to discover he'd found me, and it led him to become an agent. His mother changed their family name, that is why I never found them. Audrey is pregnant with my grandchild, and Sean was family to your husband and children. Until it is safe for her to return to L.A., she needs somewhere safe. She's scared and grieving. She needs you all to get through this pregnancy."

"By bringing her here, you place us all in danger."

"No, I haven't. It's safe now. Eric Cairns and his men have been arrested."

"Then why can't she return to L.A.?"

"We need to tie up the loose ends on who these Russian mercenaries are before you can all return home."

"Do we know why Eric Cairns framed our people and wants my husband dead?"

"Agent Jack Sloane has found some interesting facts about Cairns. Let me fill you all in at once."

"I do not want my children to know anything about this. Tell me here." Her patience had run dry.

"Please, let me tell you all at once." John urged her. "Kensi's mother can entertain the children while we talk."

Thea nodded her head. Her eyes shifted to the new visitors, studying John's wife before shifting to Audrey—the neighbour she never had much opportunity to know very well before now.

"Thea?" Audrey took a step towards her. "I'm sorry if my being here is a concern to you. I never wanted any harm to come to you or your family."

"Yet, your husband knew we were in danger and said nothing." Thea bit on her tongue to stop the blame that rushed out. "I'm sorry, Audrey. You did not deserve that."

"You are right. I did know. Jason, I mean, Sean, he told me to tell Stephen to run if anything happened to him. I wanted to know more but he asked me to trust him. For months I sat on the knowledge that there was a threat out on your husband. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what happened to him too."

Thea's eyes shifted to John for clarification. "She knows?"

"No, actually," John admitted, sheepishly. He turned to Audrey, "I apologise, I was under strict instruction to not tell you until we reached here. Stephen is alive."

Audrey heaved out a heavy breath. Relief washed over her. "Thank goodness for that. What happened?"

"Let's go inside and talk." John walked up beside her and led her inside.

"Thea?" Natalia Carston called out to her.

"I'm sorry. You must be Natalia. Hello. It's nice to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine. To meet any family of John's is a long time coming. My children are cousins to your husband. We are family, and I hope we can get to know you all."

"For a long time, Stephen never knew he had any family. We would like that very much." Thea drew in a sharp breath. "How is Garrison?"

"He is well and sends his love to you. He misses you all and cannot wait to reunite with you soon."

"You know where he is?"

Natalia smiled with warmth. "I do. I think you'll figure it out soon enough."

"He's where?" Her mind rushed at Formula one speed.

"If you needed to be safe where would you go?"

"At one time, I knew exactly where. Really?"

"Really."

Thea smiled warmly. Although their cabin on Morseby Island held some difficult memories, they'd rebuilt and enjoyed flying there for vacation whenever they could. Especially knowing that their aliases were intact and they were safe.

"He loves it up there."

"That he does. It was his idea."

"That doesn't surprise me at all. That's calmed me a great deal."

"And I'm sure you'll settle more once your husband returns."

"Yes, I will be."

They settled around the large dining table while the children played outside with Julia. The quietness was almost unbearable for Thea before John started.

"Agent Jacqueline Sloane in D.C. found some interesting facts about Eric Cairns, that even I wasn't privy to. It explains a great deal. I'll start at the beginning."

Blood pulsed past Thea's eardrums and she couldn't believe everything John was telling them. An attack on her husband because of a kind action by his father to give Eric's mother a new life in the U.S. Rage grew within her.

She rose from the table and walked outside, the need for fresh air was strong. Someone else with Russian ties who'd been after her husband all because of who his father was. Would their children also be killed because of who their grandfather is?

"Thea," John called out after her. Her pace was quick and he had to run to catch up with her. "Stop."

"I think I've heard enough."

"I'm sorry that your husband has spent his life being hunted."

"Even though he lived with a letter for a name and spent his life far away from any family, he remains the target for anyone who has it in for his father. It's not fair. He never deserved any of it, nor the attack from the Comescus. Enough!"

"Thea. Please calm down. Hetty's told me that you are pregnant again. Please think of the baby."

She took in a greedy breath and slowly released it. "I'll calm down when Stephen is here and I know he is safe. That the danger that's chased after him for most of his life has gone for good. I'm sick of the running and hiding. I want—I need our children to grow up living their lives in a happy and safe environment."

"Look at your children, Thea! They are safe and happy, running around wearing Julia out. Just look at them. They have no idea about the danger that their father's been in."

"Don't assume anything," Thea warned. "You cannot pass anything by Alice. She knows."

"But she's happy. She settled that first day when I turned up because you gave her reassurance that everything was okay. If you continue with this anger, they will worry."

John was right and Thea nodded. "It doesn't mean I have to listen any more about Eric Cairns."

"Okay, deal." John pulled her in for a hug. Thea capitulated and held him too.

"I'm, sorry. I've been selfish. You've lost your son." She stepped back from him, the guilt from her behaviour weighed on her shoulders.

"And you almost lost your husband. You have every right to be angry. I've wanted in on the interviews but Director Vance forbad it. I wanted to kill them all slowly with my own hands. Sean did not deserve to die."

"No, he did not." Thea took another greedy breath. "How is Audrey dealing with the news over who Sean really was?"

"It's been tough on her, losing her husband, being pregnant and alone. Then to find out he wasn't Jason Harper. She's doing far better than to be expected."

Thea nodded, she understood part of what the woman was going through—she herself was almost in Audrey's position.

"You believe she'll be better off here than in a safe house somewhere?"

"I couldn't think of anywhere better than for her to be with family."

"You want her to stay with you and your family, even after it's safe for her to return home." Thea realised just how much John wanted and needed this.

"She and the baby are all I have left of Sean." John chewed on the inside of his cheek and it reminded Thea all too much of her husband. She wrapped her arms around him.

"I'm sorry. I really am." Thea stepped back. "You are welcome to stay, but I'm not sure how long we'll stay here. After Stephen is released from the hospital, as soon as he's ready, we'll head home."

"You're happy to return to where—" he couldn't say anything further. Knowing he'd been in the house next to his long lost son hours before he was murdered, tore at him.

Thea quickly shook her head. "No. Never there. Our old home." Her eyes darted around them. "Where you took Garrison."

John nodded, he realised what she meant. "Natalia told you."

"All she said was that it wouldn't take me long to figure out where he was."

"It's beautiful there, I can see why you love it." His eyes scanned around him. "A bit like here, but more isolated."

"Yes. We need to forget what happened in L.A., and to Stephen."

"Will you return to L.A.?"

"I haven't spoken to Stephen yet, but we agreed, if anyone came after him or any of us again, we'll leave, this time for good. At least our aliases haven't been burned, and they didn't find us living next door. We can't take the chance we'll be safe the next time someone comes hunting after him or any one of us." Her hand shifted her to her belly and a smile formed. She could feel the slight rise. What a change a few days made.

John watched her and he matched her smile. "Family is the most important commodity we have in this life. Hold onto them all. Keep them safe."

"I intend on making sure of it." She headed back to the house. She had bridges to mend in forming a friendship with Audrey. For her husband's family's sake.

In all the years Jack Sloane had worked as a Forensic Psychologist, she rarely didn't find the motive behind the perpetrator's behaviour. Eric Cairns was no different, although, she never understood their reasoning.

Jack stood next to Leon Vance in the viewing room while CIA Director, Gary Sharp, entered the viewing room. Eric Cairns looked up and a smile appeared when he saw him. The smile quickly faded when he saw the rage that simmered under Sharp's cool facade. Cairns knew that look well. Sharp was good at disguising his rage, but only to those who didn't know him well. Eric knew Sharp for over twenty years. He knew everything about the man before him, and he went on alert.

"CIA Director Gary Sharp is now interviewing former Deputy Director, Eric Cairns." Sharp sounded formal. Any friendship the two men had, vanished like a vapour of breath as it had never existed.

"I can explain." Eric began.

"I hope you can because I'm still trying to understand the situation," Gary replied. "An attack on a Federal Agent on U.S. soil. Make that three." He added in Sean and the Lieutenant's deaths onto Callen's attack. "And the two in France."

"I had nothing to do with those other agents. They were Russian mercenaries."

"So you're admitting to the attack on Agent G. Callen."

Eric fisted his hands and set his jaw. Hearing the name made his anger rise.

Gary laid down the photo of Agent Callen on the table to face Cairns. "Agent Callen was a good man and a great agent. While he worked under us at Langley, he never did anything to make anyone believe he was working for the Russians."

"He knew the language like a local." Eric defended.

"As good as you are, I believe." Gary pulled out a photo of his mother, Shirley.

Eric's eyes widened at the photo. "Why do you have my mother's photo? You leave her out of this."

"Your mother remembers her mother tongue like it was only yesterday when she left Moscow."

"Stop it!" Cairns demanded.

"She told me how much she's enjoyed living a free life in America. All the advantages of life here gave her and her one and only son, Eric." Gary met Eric's eyes and stayed staring.

"Damn you, Eric! I trusted you with my life, my family. How dare you deceive me and go after one of our people."

"He was a Russian spy."

"No, Eric. You are the spy." Gary pulled out a file, it was rather thick and held all the Russian cases Cairns worked over the years.

"Tell me, what happened on this case, when you and Agent Callen flew into Moscow in 1990? He was under your care and almost died, if it wasn't for officer Delaney, who was skilled in medicine and saved his life. Your written report is sketchy at best. You say in here," Sharp scanned through the report, "that Agent Callen broke protocols and made contact with a former General Kuznetsov. You wrote in here, that this is how Callen was burned as a CIA operative and was taken captive and shot in the chest. That you and Officer Delaney rescued him and got him out of Moscow."

"That's right," Cairns stated. He remembered that visit like it was yesterday.

"You lie," Gary seethed. "You lied to me and to the CIA. What did you pay Delaney to get her to shut up about what really went down on that trip?"

"Nothing. It's the truth."

"That's not what Delaney is saying now. She's written a confession and has resigned from the agency, because of what you forced her to do. Threatened her with her life and that of her family—her small boy who was five at the time."

"She's lying," Cairns yelled back.

"No, Eric. You are the only one who is believing the lies that spill out of your mouth like black liquid."

Gary pulled out Delaney's statement. "I Janet Delaney declare what I have written to be the truth and nothing but the truth." Gary cleared his throat. "On March 23rd 1990, Eric Cairns sent G. Callen into danger without back up. He deliberately sent him in to be killed, after they'd had an argument over General Kuznetsov. G. Callen overheard Eric Cairn's conversation with the General and realised that the two men were family. Callen called Cairns out on it and told him he was a spy and was working for the Russians. Eric became furious and held his weapon at Callen, wanting to kill him for stating the truth of the matter. Callen said the General was Eric's grandfather, and he told the General his mother was alive and well in D.C. He gave him her new alias, and the name of the man who had helped her escape Russia."

"Oh, it gets better." Gary waved the paper in front of Cairns.

"The tension between the two men escalated after this. Callen attempted to reach a contact within Langley, Henrietta Lange, whom he trusted, to tell her about Cairns and to warn Langley. But before he could call her, Eric set a trap for Callen and he was kidnapped from the rear of a club in Moscow and taken to an empty warehouse, where he was tortured and later shot, expecting him to die. I broke the commands of Eric Cairns and went in to rescue Callen on my own, administrating medical treatment which included removal of the bullet inside his chest. I managed to get him out of Moscow after reaching Henrietta Lange myself, but I was threatened by Eric Cairns that my son would be killed if I told anyone what really happened in Moscow. I refused to work with Eric Cairns after that case and lived in fear for my family's life that he would kill them. I am speaking out now since hearing that Eric Cairns has achieved his goal in killing G. Callen, an innocent man and a great agent."

"That bitch!" Eric spat out.

"Did you ever ask how your mother had her stroke all of those years ago and had to go through therapy just to talk and walk again?" Gary ignored Eric's childish behaviour.

Cairns stilled. "What do you mean, how she had her stroke—she had a blockage in her arteries that caused it."

"Do you really believe that, Eric?"

Gary Sharp pulled out the medical file of his mother's. "It states in this report that a concoction of drugs was found in her bloodstream. Cocaine, methamphetamines and other stimulants that increased the pressure in her blood vessels that caused them to rupture, giving your mother a hemorrhagic stroke. She's fortunate she was found when she was and lived, and remembers the visitor she had just before the stroke. Your mother is a smart woman. Smarter than her son, it appears. Your grandfather sent someone familiar to your mother from Moscow, and they drugged her. You leaked her whereabouts to her father whom she was hiding from, which led her to suffer that stroke. You caused her to almost die at age five-five. What do you have to say now, Eric?"

"No, that cannot be true." He sat there dumbfounded. "He wouldn't do that do her."

"He did. And we have found the proof that the person your mother said came to visit her and drugged her, entered the country around the dates she had her stroke. One week after you passed on your message to General Kuznetsov, he sent someone to finish her off."

"You lie." Eric rose from the metal chair that he'd had enough of and paced the room.

"What did General Kuznetsov do for you in return? Kidnap and kill Agent Callen? Or perhaps the two of you came up with an arrangement, that every time you had to go to Moscow for the CIA, your grandfather made a deal with you?"

Eric Cairns stopped his pacing and glared at Gary Sharp. He studied the lean and strong body of his former boss whom he had admired for so long. He could see his light brown hair was thinning on top from his vantage point and realised that whatever friendship they once had, they would no longer regain that trust again. There was nothing left in his life that would bring him joy. His own wife and children would abandon him as Gary had done. There was no way they'd be loyal and love him after they heard the truth of all that he'd done. The deals he'd made with his grandfather, the American men and women who'd died thanks to him. Agent Callen had been the thorn in his side for so long that he'd lost his way in ensuring he remained safe. It was his hunt and revenge on Callen that led to his demise—even after his death, Callen continued to haunt him and destroy all that he'd built in his life.

"Tell us about the Russians you had sent to Jason Harper's home, and to kidnap and kill Lieutenant Tony Sutton."

"I told you that had nothing to do with me." Eric moved back into the chair.

"What about the Russians who killed NCIS Agents Bradley Moore and Adrian Prior in Paris?"

"I know nothing about who killed them."

"But you orchestrated their deaths, didn't you? You had Officers Dasper and O'Conner to steal the Faberegé egg and send a message to your contacts in Moscow that it was these NCIS agents. All arranged in order to bring Agent G. Callen out of the shadows, to hunt him down and kill him."

"I did nothing of the sort."

"Careful, Eric. We have Dasper and O'Conner's statements. They confirm the evidence that Agent Jason Harper, AKA, Sean Stratford, had collected on you. NCIS has the evidence to prove you are guilty of five NCIS agents. I'd say you're looking at five life sentences, if not the death penalty."

Eric Cairns paled. He'd not considered that all of the NCIS agents deaths would be pinned on him. He'd accepted he'd go down for Agent Callen's death and would live with it, but the other four, he struggled to accept. The death penalty loomed over him like the grim reaper.

"I want the truth about the Russians. And I want it now."

Leon watched Jack Sloane exit the viewing room. She'd heard enough from the former Deputy Director of the CIA. She closed and locked the door to her office and made a call.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

Jethro looked at the i.d. on his phone and smiled at the name that appeared. Jack couldn't help herself when it came to him. She'd made him her mission to work her psychological skill on, but he continued to push back. And he toyed a little with her on their personal relationship. He enjoyed her company more than he let on.

"Jack, what's up?"

"How is he?"

"Who are we talking about?"

"Your friend."

"He's improving. What's up?"

"I have some interesting information for you on your friend's past, a case for the CIA that led to the actions of Cairns on him. It's not just that fact he was after your friend's father, it was something from 1990."

"Tell me." Gibbs' eyes went on alert again, anything that pertained to this information Jack shared with him was top secret.

"Thanks, Jack. I'll speak with him and get back to you."

"Can I speak to him?"

"He's dead, remember?" Gibbs reminded Jack of the illusion their agency had put in place for Callen's protection.

"Okay. Call me when you have something to pass on this way."

"Sure."

Gibbs stepped into the private room and watched the sleeping form of Callen in the bed before him. He looked peaceful when he slept, something his friend hadn't done much in his earlier years in case someone tried to hurt him.

"He's just fallen back off to sleep. The exercise is wearing him out."

"It's good that he is walking." Gibbs angled his head towards the door. "How about you take a break, go for a walk, get something decent to eat and drink. I can sit with him for a bit."

"Thanks." Sam rose, his eyes shifting towards his partner one more time.

"Call me if he wakes."

"I'm sure you'll be back before he does."

Gibbs settled in the vacant chair and looked at Callen. Slow steady breaths and the constant beeping of the heart monitor reaffirmed his friend was alive and on his way to recovery.

"Has he gone?" Callen's blue eyes opened and stared at Gibbs.

"Stephen. Are you playing games with Sam already?"

"I'm bored lying here or sitting in that chair. What I need is to escape this place and head to where my family is. I'm going crazy."

"Patience was never your thing."

"Nor yours either. Sam, however, appears to have the patience for everyone."

"He's well trained in the SEALs."

"And you weren't in the Marines?" Callen scoffed.

"Point taken. I've become irritable in my old age."

"Yeah, like you're that ancient yet," Callen smirked. "I bet there's something going on with that Forensic Psychologist you keep mentioning to me. What's her name? Jack. That's right. Tell me about her."

"Actually, it's funny you should bring her up. She just called with something interesting from your past."

Callen frowned. "What is it?"

"How much do you remember about your first case with the CIA?"

Callen frowned, thinking hard. "I was kidnapped and shot. I don't remember much other than a woman, De something, saved my life and got me out of Moscow with Hetty's help. Why?"

"Who else was in Moscow with you and Delaney?"

"That's right. Thanks for reminding me."

"Who else was with you and Delaney in Moscow?"

Callen shook his head. His mind tried to dig deep into his memory, but nothing came. "I don't remember. I almost died and lost my memory."

"You went to Moscow with Eric Cairns."

Callen's eyes widened. "I'm sure I would have remembered him being there."

"Janet Delaney's come clean on the truth that occurred on that trip to Moscow. She's heard the news that Cairns killed you."

"Almost achieved it." Callen coughed and pain ripped through him.

"Do I need to call for a nurse?"

"No, I'm good." Callen blinked a couple of times. "I'm okay. Thanks."

Gibbs nodded. "If you're sure."

"What happened in Moscow?"

"You overheard Eric Cairns speaking with General Kuznetsov. You discovered something."

"Who is General Kuznetsov?"

"Eric Cairns' grandfather. His mother escaped Russia to get away from him and the things she saw from working with the government. She is one of the many your father helped escape with new identities in the U.S. Eric Cairns is after your father for helping his mother escape, resulting in his father being killed by his grandfather because they thought he was behind her disappearance. And he's been after you ever since you discovered the family connection and called him a Russian spy. And it looks like he's been doing some serious digging into your background and discovered who your father is. I believe the recent swap with the reporters to the Iranians may have revealed your connection. It's made seeking you out more urgent."

"So it wasn't just because of who my father is, it's something from my own past working at Langley that's brought this attack on?"

"Yes. The fact that he's discovered Nikita is your father, doubled his intentions to cause you harm."

"Great." Callen cringed.

"I'm getting a nurse."

"No. I need to get out of here. Ask someone for my release papers, or I'm walking out of here without it."

"Stephen," Gibbs remembered his alias, never revealing his true identity.

"Please, Jethro. Before Sam gets back. I need to be with Thea and our kids."

Gibbs nodded. "Okay. But no escaping before I get those release papers."

"Thanks." Callen sighed with relief. He was getting out of there at last. A smirk formed on his lips that he still could manipulate Gibbs in doing things for him.

"Cheeky." Gibbs studied his friend and noted his spirits lifted with the hope of getting out of there. He exited the room and headed for the nurses' station.

* * *

Sam walked back to the hospital and stalled when he saw Callen and Gibbs waiting for him at the entrance. He shook his head as he approached them.

"Don't tell me, Stephen waited for me to leave and begged for you to get him out?"

Gibbs shrugged. "We're waiting on a taxi to take us to the plane."

Sam studied his partner. "You sure you're up to this?"

"I need them, Sam."

Sam looked back at Gibbs. "What did the doctor say?"

"That he needs to remain in the hospital for another week, but if you stay with him, he'll be happier, since he's insisting on leaving."

"I don't intend on leaving him." Sam glared at Callen.

"I'll behave. I just need to be with my family."

"We are your family."

"Yeah, but you're not my wife or kids."

Sam placed his hand over his heart, jesting his feelings were hurt.

"Come on, big guy. You know how important you are to me."

"Same for you, which is why you should stay in the hospital until you're ready to leave."

"I'm going insane."

A taxi pulled up and Sam helped Callen inside. "To the marina."

The taxi pulled away from the hospital and Callen released the breath he'd been holding. Relief flooded him. He was going home. Not L.A. home, but family home, and it comforted him.

* * *

Deeks buried his head into his hands. After searching for ghosts for almost a week, he had nothing to show for it except for separation issues from his wife and son. He missed them desperately, and besides the daily phone calls, he felt alone in the world except for having Eric Beale around. The Tech joined him for drinks the night before and they'd shared their wish to be with the rest of the team instead of being stuck in L.A. with strangers. The D.C. team left a hole in their day, they'd been good agents and they'd worked well for the week they'd been there. Now unknown agents gathered in the Ops Centre being briefed by Beale and Ochoa on the Russians they were after, and all Deeks wanted was home and sleep.

The past two weeks had been few on sleep for the detective, who'd gone undercover as a homeless man once again, and dealt with the attempt of saving the Harper and Campbell homes from the fire that gutted the former's home. He hated driving past to see the desolated plot of land. There was no protection from that side of the Campbell's family home now, and he quickly arranged for a security fence to be installed to keep it protected.

There were no leads on who these Russian mercenaries were—no fingerprints to chase, no witnesses, other than Audrey Harper, who said they wore masks and she couldn't identify them. Eric had scoured the home security Callen had installed on their home, however, even that hadn't given them much. The armed men had arrived from the other side of the Harper property, almost missing Callen's cameras, as if they'd known they were there before they invaded and killed Jason Harper.

Deeks switched his laptop on and scanned over the camera feeds again. "There has to be something here."

"Try three weeks prior."

Deeks looked up and found Eric standing in front of his desk.

"Where did you come from?"

"I flew down." Eric held his tablet in his hands. "In fact, it was one of the subs that found it while scouring through the Campbell camera feeds. It's a good thing he sends it onto a hard drive for back up, otherwise, we would never have found it. Most are overwritten in a forty-eight hour period, some more advanced may go back fourteen days. They had no idea who the occupants of the house next door were, and therefore they did not consider that it all would be kept." Eric continued on the facade that Nell and Callen were the Campbells, just in case there were ears listening that shouldn't be.

"I'll remember that the next time I drive past their house to check on it."

"No need, I have it all coming through to me in Ops. I had permission from Mrs Campbell, it was set up to make certain they remained safe."

"Good planning. So I can ditch my daily drive-by."

"Yes, you can." Eric frowned. "You're not sleeping."

"No. I miss Kensi and Zander-man too much."

"Let's hope we can get them home sooner, so we can return to normal around here."

"Show me what the sub found?"

"Who are you calling a sub?" A girl appeared next to Eric and Deeks shook his head and squinted his eyes, to check they were functioning correctly. He really did need more sleep. A woman, a young woman around late twenties, he surmised, with straight dark hair and intense eyes, stared at him.

"Who are you?" Deeks settled back into his chair and folded his arms over his chest.

"Agent Stephanie James. Your new partner."

Deeks shifted his gaze to Eric who merely shrugged. "Ochoa's idea."

"Right. I'm Detective Marty Deeks. Everyone calls me Deeks."

"So, you're not an agent?" She ran her brown eyes over the length of him, assessing the man. He was tall and shaggy. Probably a surfer. And loud, from her own assumptions when she could hear him talking from the floor above.

"No. Never needed to become one." Deeks eyed her suspiciously.

"I was told you are our team lead, but you're not an agent. I don't understand?"

"I've worked here for ten years. Wow! That long. I'm as experienced as any of the agents that work here, my title is irrelevant."

"Okay." Stephanie James shifted her attention to the desks around her. "Which desk is mine?"

Deeks looked wide-eyed as she chose Callen's desk and settled there.

"Who's does this one belong to?" She opened a drawer and pulled a file out from the desk.

"I don't think you should be reading that." Eric moved swiftly to remove the file from her hands. "I will need to empty the desk before you can work from there."

"This is that agent's desk, the one that was shot down over Montana?"

"That's debatable on whether it was South Dakota or Montana," Eric added. He quickly placed everything from Callen's desk into a box and took it away.

He'd seen the rage that simmered in Deeks' eyes over they way Stephanie so aimlessly mentioned about the attack on Callen's plane. He wanted to get out of the bullpen as soon as possible, who knew what Deeks might say or do to his new partner if the conversation continued on about Callen.

He placed the box onto a shelf in the storage room and hoped it wouldn't be too long before the contents returned to Callen's desk. It would always be Callen's desk no matter who sat in it. He wondered how the other two agents would behave at Sam and Kensi's desks, and worried how Deeks would take their company. Things didn't appear to be going well with Stephanie.

"Was he your partner?" Stephanie settled in way too well for Deeks' liking.

"He was our team leader. The four of us worked closely together for a real long time. He was like a brother to me."

"I'm sorry. I can move desks if that helps?" She saw him struggle and took it to be his grief.

"No, it's okay. I've got to get used to him being gone." The words echoed around the ground floor and Deeks wondered why he was lying so easily, playing the part of a grieving brother? The illusion had to remain in place for Callen's safety, but that didn't remove the anger that churned inside of him over the attempt on his life. The fact that he'd almost been killed and suffered in a great deal of pain in the hospital, way too soon after Mexico, concerned him the most.

His thoughts were broken when his cell shrilled. He picked it up. "What is it, Eric?"

"We have found the vehicles from the raid on the Harpers' home."

"Where?"

"The address is on your phone. Agents Grasby and Evans are on their way down to you. SWAT are on their way."

The other two new additions to his team moved swiftly down the stairs and looked to Deeks for direction.

"Follow me." It was easier for Deeks to lead them to the carpool than to explain the meanderings of this long building. Carpool sat at the opposite end to their offices and he couldn't afford for them to get lost. His own vehicle was parked there anyway.

Deeks drove Agent James without any further conversation, while his mind focused on the next turn he had to make to the warehouse, just south of the Lincoln Memorial Park. They had to navigate through traffic, and he was thankful it wasn't peak hour. He hoped whoever they were after was there and they got them all. He needed his team back, not this substitute team who didn't know any of them.

SWAT was waiting for them around the corner and Deeks and the other agents followed him to meet with the commander. They looked at the map of the building to discuss how this was going down.

"There are exits on all sides of the building. If we breach here," Commander Willis pointed to the front of the building, we have a good chance they'll come out here, here, and here." He pointed to the side and rear doors that lead to a major road and other warehouses, adding to the danger that innocent civilians could become collateral.

"Then we split into four groups. One of us goes with two or three of your men." Deeks looked at the ten-man SWAT team under Commander Willis.

"We breach on my command." Commander Willis stated, knowing although Deeks was the team lead on this, he was only LAPD not NCIS.

Deeks nodded, thankful to have him on board for this operation. He expected all hell to break loose once they breached the warehouse. He was also pleased to split up his new team in amongst the SWAT team, hoping that no death or injury came their way.

"All in position?"

"Affirmative," Deeks replied. He was positioned at the front of the building and hoped the men inside were unarmed when they entered.

"Breach! Breach! Breach!"

The agents and SWAT team entered. Gunfire greeted them and the sound echoed around the warehouse. Deeks ducked, a bullet nearly hit him in the neck, and he blew out a quick breath as one of the SWAT officers fired back and the shooter fell to the floor.

More gunfire sounded at the rear, where the Russian mercenaries attempt to escape was blocked by Agents Grasby and more SWAT officers.

"You're surrounded. Lay down your weapons." Deeks called out.

Another automatic weapon sounded, shattering the contents on the shelves above Deeks' head.

More gunfire exploded to the right, and Deeks knew that Agent Evans was pushing forward to get to the men in the middle of the warehouse. Deeks peeped above a sack that looked like it contained flour and hoped that was all it was since its powder form puffed out from the bullet holes onto his face. His eyes scanned the area in front of him, and there was no way he and his officers could move any closer.

He saw movement to the left—Agent James moved in as close as she could, ducking and swerving as she moved closer to their targets. She narrowly missed being hit, and Deeks swore under his breath over her arrogance that she was invincible.

Deeks shot at the man who was firing at James. He went down and Stephanie nodded her thanks to him as she moved closer. The officers moved closely behind her, and now she was in the best position to the last group of men standing.

Deeks took photos of the men that remained and sent them to Eric. There was one man who stood out from the rest, he was tall and broad and appeared to be giving instructions to the rest.

"Capture only, do not kill the man on the right. He looks to be the leader, and we need to question him." Deeks called out over their comms.

More gunfire ensued and the leader took a hit in the left arm. His right held onto a gun and fired it back. Agent Evans took a hit to the chest. He went down, but Deeks knew the kevlar vest had saved him.

You okay, Evans?" Deeks asked him.

Evans gasped as the impact winded him. He took a couple of breaths. "I'm good."

"Don't do that again. We need to survive this."

"Will try my best," Evans responded. He was tough, served in the marines before moving to NCIS two years earlier. He was accustomed to gun battles and this one was no different.

Grasby moved forward from the rear and threw a noose of rope he'd found out back to loop around the leader's leg. He dragged him away from his gun and his men.

The leader attempted to wrestle with the noose, to get it off his leg, but his injured left arm made the task almost impossible.

"Помогите!" The leader called out. One of his men turned and fired Grasby's way. Agent James fired and hit the man firing at Grasby, exposing her position.

Deeks saw the Russian aim his weapon at James and he quickly fired and hit him in the head."

"Nice shot. Thanks." James thanked Deeks again.

"That's two you owe me."

"I didn't realise we kept score." James shook her head at how Deeks could appear so nonchalant during a gunfight. But she didn't have time to study the detective further when she ducked and nearly missed another bullet heading her way.

One of the officers behind her fired back, hitting them in the chest, and they fell to the dusty floor instantly.

"Five to go." Commander Willis called over the comms. "Try to injure not kill."

But with the remaining men intent on killing the agents and SWAT officers, it was kill or be killed.

Thankfully, Grasby had taken the leader hostage and tied him up behind a pile of heshan sacks. He ripped the bottom of the hostage's shirt and tied it over his injured arm. Blood was oozing out way too fast for his liking.

Satisfied he'd held the pressure off long enough, he focused on his team. "Eric, we need an ambulance for one of the suspects. Gunshot wound to the left arm."

"There's one waiting a block away until it's deemed safe."

"Good. We still have five men to deal with."

The man before him groaned in pain.

"You'll live." Agent Grasby told him.

"You won't get away with this." The man growled at him, his Russian accent was prominent. The pain from the bullet took main focus for him, and he hissed as another shot of pain ran up his arm.

"Don't move your arm. You'll be given medical treatment once your men put their weapons down."

"They will never surrender."

"Why did you invade the Harper's family home and kill the husband?"

"He took something that belonged to our country."

"It was never in the States. You're here illegally, and these weapons are from Russia. Why are you here?"

"To get back what was stolen from us."

"Jason Harper never had the Fabergé egg. You were sent on a wild goose chase. Who gave you the orders? Who sent you here?"

"I will never tell you."

Grasby held the suspect's arm around the bullet wound, and the Russian cried out in pain.

"Answer my questions and we can do this more civilised."

"Who sent you to L.A.?"

"I'll die before I tell you."

"We'll see about that." Grasby shoved a knife into the man's injured arm and shocking pain seared his flesh, sending sharp and unbearable pain up his arm. He yelled out in agony.

"General." He breathed out. Sweat beaded down his temples.

"General who?"

"Kuznetsov." He gasped for breath, as Grasby released him.

"He's still alive?" Grasby remembered Eric Beale talking about the General from years ago, how he was Eric Cairns' grandfather.

The man laughed sarcastically. "It will take a nuclear war to kill the old warhorse."

"Why did he send you to L.A.?"

"To find the Fabergé egg. But you tell me it's not here?"

"It's back in Moscow. It was taken by General Kuznetsov's grandson to cause problems with our agency."

"NCIS?" The man read the letters on the kevlar vest Grasby wore."

"Yes."

"Why NCIS?"

"To draw out one of our agents he had an issue with from many years ago. You were drawn in on his personal vendetta. Now your men have suffered greatly. Not only are you in the United States illegally, but you've also killed two Federal Agents on U.S. soil, and your men are falling like flies."

"Стоп!" [Stop!] The man called out to the few men of his that remained.

The gunfire behind him stopped. Gunpowder floated in the air, and the silence was replaced by movement of the NCIS agents and SWAT officers, disarming and cuffing the last of the Russians standing. Four men beside the leader remained.

Deeks scanned the warehouse. It appeared to hold pantry items in bulk sacks from what he could see, a good cover for these Russians to hide while they waited for more instructions.

"You go easy on my men." The Russian told Grasby. "We were only doing our jobs."

"We'll see about that." Grasby hauled the Russian to his feet. "I cannot promise you anything. It depends on what my bosses decide."

"You are a pawn like we are."

"We'll see about that." Grasby studied his prisoner closely. His English was excellent and he wondered where the man had studied, to be proficient like he was.

Grasby moved him into the rear of the ambulance and allowed the paramedics to tend to his injury. He looked over and watched Deeks dealing with another survivor. He looked exhausted and wondered how long the Detective had been working on this case.

"You good?" Grasby asked Deeks as he arrived at the ambulance.

"I'll survive. Has he told you anything we can work with?" Deeks looked up at the Russian been tended to by two paramedics.

"He told me General Kuznetsov is still around and sent them here for the Fabergé egg."

"Sounds like Cairns continues to work with his grandfather. We'll interview them all after you've finished here."

"You're so certain Eric Cairns and General Kuznetsov are related?"

"His mother confirmed it to Director Vance."

Grasby nodded. He knew this case went high on the list, and exactly who Eric Cairns was. He hoped that whatever else went on, the Detective and the rest of his team who remained away at this time found some closure for the loss of their team lead.


End file.
